


clarify it hurts.

by HittingBillithyIsFun



Series: pacify. [1]
Category: Tokio Hotel
Genre: Alternate Universe - Not Related, Kaulitzcest - Freeform, M/M, Running Away, Twincest, Underage Drinking, Underage Drug Use, Underage Sex, Underage Smoking, police chases! maybe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-26
Updated: 2015-06-14
Packaged: 2018-03-09 02:19:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 13
Words: 29,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3232619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HittingBillithyIsFun/pseuds/HittingBillithyIsFun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If in death Tom could dream, he only wanted to dream of Bill.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This work is totally fiction none of this shit happened. Also they're not twins, sorry. Still read it tho!
> 
> ~ HittingSasukeIsFun & Onyxxyyxx  
> links on our profile c:

                                                            

 

_What is 3,920, 000,000,000 in scientific notation?_

Bill looked at the answer choices underneath and huffed. Math was the worst, most boring thing ever.

He glanced around at his classmates. Some were responsibly concentrating on their current assignment, others goofing off and trying to discreetly pass notes. Then there was Tom.

He was lazily hunched over his table, his head resting peacefully on his folded arms. His mouth hung slightly agape and a single blond dreadlock dangled across his slumbering features. Bill wanted to throw something at his face. Teachers didn't even bother with Tom anymore, any time or energy used to try to help him was wasted in their eyes, he was a lost cause.

He looked back down at his math sheet and deflated.

The seconds ticked by at a painfully slow rate but soon they'd be allowed to leave the horrifically mind-numbing place they called "school".

Bill watched as the blond leisurely roused from sleep when the shrill ringing of the bell resounded through the jostling classroom. He moved drowsily, stuffing his backpack and slinging it over his shoulder.

Since they lived just a few houses away from each other, they usually made the trek home together. Getting out onto the streets, they quietly made their way through the small town of Loitsche.

Halfway there, Bill thought he'd break the silence.

"Had a nice nap?" he asked, grinning.

Tom rolled his eyes and glanced away.

"Why do you sleep in class so much? Do you stay up all night jerking off?"

He leered at Bill then.

"Why don't you ask your mom?" Tom smirked impishly.

Bill gasped dramatically and punched Tom's shoulder playfully.

"Asshole!" Bill chuckled briskly and shook his head.

After several minutes, seeing as they were just a few meters away from their respective houses, Bill's pert and raspy voice yet again pierced the air.

"Wanna hang out later?"

"Yeah," Tom almost immediately replied.

"Okay!" He saluted Tom and sauntered over to the left, briefly looking back at Tom's retreating back as he opened the front door.

A sweet smell wafted through the air as he walked down the hallway. Mmh, tomato sauce!

 

* * *

 

Approaching the front door, Tom could already hear the sobbing wails of his mother and raucous insults from his father. He tried to sneak past the open doorway to find refuge in his room but didn't get far when his father cut short his attempted escape.

"Where do you think you're going?" His father's powerful voice breached his senses and he reluctantly turned, sluggishly making his way back to the living room.

"Do you know what this is?" Apart from his mother's sniffles and father's bestial huffing, the room was filled with a dreadful silence. Tom's eyes were locked on the small plastic bag in his father's hand. 

"Huh?! Your _mother_ found this in your room!" Jörg's arm snapped back to point at his tear-ridden mother. Tom flinched and felt his throat constrict. She was clutching her trembling form, breath stuttering out of her.

He felt tears rise up and clamped his jaw.

"What do you have to say for yourself?!" Jörg's voice boomed through the tension-filled room as he threw the drug filled bag to the ground before gripping Tom's shoulder, brusquely shaking him.

"Don't-" Simone feebly defended, shakily reaching out to her son.

"You shut up!" his father barked, yet again stabbing a finger toward Tom's poor mother. Her head fell into her hands as she let out another sob.

"Don't fucking talk to her like that!" Tom barely finished his sentence when a calloused palm collided with the right side of his face. He stared wide-eyed, gently cupping his warm and stinging cheek.

 Jörg couldn't help but smirk at the tears that began to form in Tom's wide eyes, his pain giving Jörg an indescribable feeling of satisfaction. "Go to your fucking room!" Tom gawked, standing stupidly, paralyzed.

"NOW." He jumped and swiftly made his way back to his original destination.

Shutting the door, he leaned his hands against the frame, letting his head droop and the tears fall. His hands balled into fists and he hissed out his breathing through clenched teeth, barely holding himself together. He was tearing at the seems, ready to combust.

He threw himself onto his bed, cradling his throbbing head.

Curling up into the fetal position, he wiped at his face, trying to regain a semblance of composure.

The defeated teen willed his breathing to a steady pace and dragged the soft, military green covers over his shoulders.

 

Forcing his heavy eyelids open, he glanced at the digital clock on his night stand. Blinking rapidly, he saw that it was already seven minutes past six. _Huh, must have dozed off..._

Sitting up, he rubbed at his face once more, leaned forward with his hands on his knees and weightily stood on his feet.

He peered around his room, searching for his black hoodie, judging it time to leave. Spotting it, he slipped it on and snatched his mp3 player from off the shelf. That would keep him company 'til Bill arrived.

He paused in front of the window, fingers tapping against the sill, and sighed. Would this torment ever let up? Or would he have to endure it until he moved out of this hellhole? He was miserable. He didn't know how much more of this torture he could handle... But what he did know was that only one thing ever made him feel better.

On that thought, he zipped up his jacket and slid the window open. Ducking out, he headed toward peace, comfort, laughter...happiness.

Bill.

Images of the dark-haired bundle of excitement whirred through his mind and his pace quickened, a slither of warmth seeping into his cold, aching heart.

 

* * *

 

"Aaaah!" Bill sighed liberally and patted his full belly. That cannelloni had been delicious, his dad was such a good cook. He looked at him and smiled brightly. He winked at Bill and got up to clear the table. Bill stood to give him a hand.

"Can I go outside?"

Gordon looked suspiciously at Bill while he handed him another plate to wipe dry.

"Where?"

"Just to the river with Tom," Bill replied, ever jaunty.

There was a short lull between them and Gordon sighed.

"Why are you always hanging out with that boy," Gordon said absentmindedly. "You know, he's probably the reason you never get girlfriends. It definitely isn't your looks..."

" _Dad_." Bill whined, rolling his eyes. 

"Did you finish your homework?" Bill could already make out his compliance.

"Yes."

"Be home before sunset."

"Thaaanks," he eagerly put away what he'd just dried and gave Gordon a quick one-armed hug before skipping off to the front door.

"Before sunset!" he yelled after him.

"Yeah!" Bill acknowledged, peeking his head back inside the house, and shut the door behind him.

He hurried down the street to the river, their habitual hang out location.

Ten minutes later, he spotted the blond. He was facing the stream cross-legged, his head bent down toward the music player between his thumbs. Bill approached unnoticed, Tom too engrossed in his distraction.

"RAAAH!" Bill hollered, grabbing Tom's arms from behind. Tom jolted, giving a startled squawk.

Ripping out his ear buds, Tom punched Bill's ankle, smiling all the while.

"Ah!" Bill cried out, hopping backwards while he clutched his leg, still managing to be amused at Tom's upheaval.

"You asshole, what was that about?!" Tom shouted in mock rage.

"I was just trying to surprise you!" Bill shouted back. "You didn't have to hit me..."

Tom rolled his eyes at Bill's cute pout and turned to face the water again. Bill finally plopped down next to him, bumping their shoulders together. They sat in a comfortable silence, just enjoying each other's presence; until Tom's stomach decided to voice its displeasure.

Tom groaned back, falling back onto the grass, folding his arms behind his head.  _Damn he was hungry._ He stared up at the sky, warm colors colliding with cool as day turned into night. Bill furrowed his eyebrows and lay down, too, resting his chin on Tom's chest. The dread-headed boy stared into his best friend's concerned eyes. 

"You're always hungry," Bill said, and Tom looked back up to the sky with a sigh. Not this conversation again. "It's like you never eat or something."

"I eat." Tom grumbled, and Bill rolled his eyes.

"Have you eaten every day this week?" 

"Yes." Tom lied smoothly, his years of practice coming into play. 

After a few minutes of silence, Tom sighed again. Bill was only quiet when something was wrong. He finally looked back down at the older boy's distressed face, eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed. 

"Everything's fine, ok? I just haven't had dinner yet, I'm sure I'll eat once I get home." He said, mumbling the last part a little quieter.

"Okay." Bill sighed, not in the mood for prying. He just wanted to lie and watch the stars with his best friend in silence. So that's what they did.

 

* * *

 

Tom lay on his bed, arms behind his head as he listened to his stomach groan in agony. It had been two hours since he'd gotten back from the river, and he _still_ hadn't eaten. This wasn't so bad though, going only a few hours without food. He'd gone days, weeks even without a single crumb, he could definitely handle this. Today he was lucky enough to find a few coins on the ground on his way to school, just enough for a tray of lunch; 5 chicken nuggets, fries, an orange and some milk - he had been in heaven. It was the most he'd eaten in the last week. 

At that thought, his stomach rumbled again. 

He was just about to turn over to try to get some sleep, just as his door flew open, slamming against the wall, revealing his father, a large smirk on his face as he made his way into the teen's room.

"You hungry, son?" he asked with mock concern.

"No." Tom replied immediately, knowing exactly what was coming next.

Jörg stopped in front of Tom's bed, his hand reaching down to grope his hardening crotch.

"Are you sure? Because I've got a little something for you..." 

"I'm sure." Tom said, averting his eyes to the doorway, thinking of a way to escape.

Jörg only laughed at Tom's response, slowly unzipping his jeans before motioning the boy over. Tom didn't budge, though, and Jörg squinted his eyes.

"I said get over here, _now,_ " He gritted, his jaw clenching when Tom remained, once again. 

Tom had some dignity and he wasn't going down without a fight. He was nearly a man now, only four more years until he was able to get the hell out of this house, he wasn't taking orders from anyone, _especially_ not Jörg.

"You're asking for it," Jörg said harshly.

Tom winced, hissing as his hair was tugged sharply, his body lurching to the edge of the bed.

His father's hard, leaking cock burst into view and Tom flinched, breaking into a cold sweat.

"Open that pretty little mouth for daddy," Jörg said in a deceivingly sweet yet sickening tone.

"Mm-mh!" He pressed his lips together tight, urgently shaking his head.  _No, no, NO._

Jörg pressed his thumb and forefinger into Tom's cheeks, squeezing and forcing a small opening. His thumb moved between his now open lips, settling on his lower molars, holding his mouth wide open.

A shiver went down his spine when the head of Jörg's cock touched his tongue. It slid in further and he breathed raggedly through his nose, nostrils flaring.

"Thaaat's my boy..."

Tom screwed his eyes shut, trying desperately not to whimper.

In and out, in and out -- Tom felt nauseous and Jörg mindlessly groaned out words of praise, only worsening Tom's lamentable state.

He trembled, tears leaking out without consent as Jörg's pace sped up. He hit the back of his throat and Tom gagged, jerking backwards, coughing.

Jörg viciously pushed the frightened boy onto the floor.

"You really are good for nothing," he sneered, sending a swift kick to the boys rib. Tom groaned loudly, curling up into a tight ball as he was repeatedly and mercilessly kicked. 

The last thing he remembered was the hard kick to the head that knocked him out cold.


	2. Chapter 2

                                                                           

 

Bill slammed his locker shut, grudgingly making his way to the lunchroom. Tom was absent today, meaning he would have to eat alone. He huffed out a sigh, pouting.

He hated it when Tom wasn't there. He was his only real friend, the only one who made this shitty place bearable. Even if he slept through it most of the time.

Reaching the cafeteria, he dejectedly sat down at their usual table -- today, vacant.

He set down his red Power Ranger's lunchbox and released the latch to reveal his meal: a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, some chips and an apple. His stomach grumbled in response.

Why _did_ Tom use school time as nap time so much? At least once a week he would notice the blond peacefully dozing off in the middle of a lesson. Bill had jokingly questioned him on a number of occasions but Tom had always been devious under Bill's scrutiny, effectively evading his musings and never satisfying his curiosity...

But curiosity quickly became concern when the next day, Tom still hadn't shown up. That afternoon in class seemed never-ending. To make things worse, a group of boys chose that day to follow Bill almost all the way back home, throwing petty insults at him, relentlessly chasing after him. He ignored them, as always. Nothing good ever came from trying to confront them -- it only added fuel to the flame.

All because he was a little effeminate.

If Bill had no problem with it, then why should anyone else? Why did they care? He wasn't bothering anyone being...gay. Bill didn't think about it very often, but he had come to the conclusion that he was, in fact, gay. He had no romantic interest in girls, all they ever were was someone to paint his nails or swap fashion tips with.

Although, no boys had really caught his attention either. They all picked on him for various ridiculous reasons... Except Tom. Tom had never once paid any mind to his girlish tendencies, much less mocked him about it.

Finally entering his bedroom, he flopped onto his bed, arm covering his eyes. Hopefully tomorrow Tom would return and things could go back to normal.

 

It was Friday and Bill was really starting to get worried. He was restless all day, _and_ those idiots from yesterday wouldn't let up their taunting. Time passed agonizingly slow.

Walking back alone from school definitely didn't feel right. Bill felt very alone without Tom and he wondered why he'd been gone so long. Was he sick? He had come to school with a cold before... Maybe it was worse than a cold. Maybe something happened to him, something  _bad_. Bill panicked at the alarming thoughts that plagued him.

After finishing his homework, he still had some time to kill before dinner. He deemed TV to be a good idea, at least then he wouldn't be left alone with his thoughts of anguish and distress.

 

"Bill!"

Bill woke with a start, clutching at the edges of the plush beige couch.

Gordon's head peeked through the open doorway.

"Dinner's ready in 5," he said more softly this time, smiling at the dazed teen.

"Um, okay..." Bill rubbed at the corners of his eyes, getting up to set the table.

When he was done, he feebly lowered himself into his chair. Slouching, he tipped his head back, closing his heavy eyelids.

He jolted when a plate clanked down onto the wooden table. Gordon looked strangely at him but said nothing, taking his own seat opposite Bill. He served Bill and himself and paused, correcting the utensils' positions.

Bill looked down at his own -- _oh_ _\--_ and did the same, proceeding with munching on the crunchy fish sticks. Then his chewing slowed to a stop. _  
_

Maybe Tom was in trouble. Maybe that Tuesday night Tom had collapsed from hunger and never made it home. Maybe he was crawling in the dirt somewhere, pushing out a wheeze-like cry of help, just waiting for someone to find him and save him.

Bill needed to see him, maybe he should just excuse himself and go right now. He had to go check on him, he had to-

"Bill?" His head snapped up to an apprehensive expression.

"Huh?" He blinked, his eyes dry, probably from blanking out and staring into space for too long.

"Is something wrong?"

Bill looked at his father for a moment and deflated, resting his forehead on his hands.

"I'm worried about Tom, I mean, maybe it's stupid, but he hasn't been to school since Tuesday a-and I just don't know what _happened_ to him. I mean, it must be something serious if he missed almost all week! Seriously, what if he's hurt or something? I-I gotta go see-"

" _Bill_ ," Gordon interrupted his son's raving.

He stared with wide, fearful eyes, frantically clawing at the table.

"Bill...what's gotten into you? Why are you so...fixated on this 'Tom' boy?" _  
_

" _Wha_ \- I'm not!" he stammered. Gordon's patronizing gaze disconcerted him.

"To an outsider it would seem like...you two are fags together or something like that." With that thought, Gordon winced dramatically, shaking his head.

Bill's jaw dropped for a second before almost immediately clicking shut.

"What if I am!" he yelled, outraged. How could he say such a thing? The way his face scrunched in disgust completely unsettled Bill.

"What are you saying? You're my son! I know you!"

"Apparently not," Bill muttered quietly.

Gordon chuckled dryly. "Stop being stupid, Bill. You're not gay!"

"I never said I was," Bill spat back, glaring daggers at his father. 

"Then what _are_ you saying?" 

Bill rolled his eyes and rose from his seat, muttering a quiet "I'm not hungry" before running up the stairs and into his room, slamming the door behind him. He groaned loudly as he fell face first into his bed, burying his face in his pillow before letting out a loud, frustrated shout. Shouting turned into screaming, then screaming into yelling profanities. Soon, he found himself sobbing, curling up into a ball.

Not once had he felt ashamed of his sexuality. Not when he'd been sneered at or chased or even hit. But now, knowing that his father would never accept who he was, he hated it. He hated himself.

 

* * *

 

Emotional scars always take longer to heal.

It had been 3 days since his last beating, most of his visible scars were gone, his black eye faded, yet he still didn't feel stable enough to leave his bed.

He hadn't eaten the entire duration of his physical and emotional recovery. Partially because he felt too weak to leave his room, but also because, even if he  _did_  get up, he probably wouldn't have been fed anyway. 

He'd never acted this way before, he usually took his beatings with a grain of salt, and kept it moving, but, for him, this was the last straw. Not only did his father knock him unconscious and then refuse to take him to the hospital, but his mother didn't lift a finger to try and help him.

It was obvious that no one cared about him.

Now, Tom wasn't necessarily suicidal, he didn't want to die, per se, he just wanted to get the hell out of this house, and killing himself seemed like the easiest way.

Suicide wasn't his first choice, because in Tom's eyes, it was like giving up, letting the people who put you down win. But he had no other option. 

His first thought was to run away, but if he left all by himself he'd surely get killed. Then he thought of his relatives -- he had none. Friends? Bill; but Gordon wasn't exactly his biggest fan. So, then, suicide it was.

He would've done it sooner, but each time he felt ready, one person fogged his thoughts.

Bill.

He knew how bad this would hurt him, Tom was his only friend after all, but he'd held off long enough. It was time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to comment and give kudos! :)


	3. Chapter 3

                                                                                      

 

 "Bill!"

"Mhh, Tomi." Bill mumbled in his sleep, turning over.

" _Bill!_ "

"Mhmmm?" He mumbled again as he clutched his body pillow closer.

" _ **Bill**!_ "

The raven haired teen awoke with a start, jolting upwards. He breathed deeply, wiping his damp locks from his forehead.

"It was just a dream." He sighed sadly, falling back onto his mattress, staring up at the ceiling. This wasn't the first time he had gotten so worked up over a dream...

"BILL!"

He nearly fell off of his bed with how fast he moved, scrambling onto the floor before running over to the large bay window. When he swung the doors open and looked down he saw Tom, a bright smile on the younger teen's face. Bill's heart fluttered in his chest.

" _What are you doing_?" He hissed, leaning over the window sill to watch the younger teen begin to climb up the side of his house, hands gripping onto specific bricks with a practiced grace. 

"Rapunzel, Rapunzel," Tom said a bit breathlessly, extending one of his hands outwards for dramatic effect, "let down your hair!"

"Be careful, you idiot!" Bill scolded, but he couldn't stop the smile that spread across his face. 

He stepped back when Tom finally made it to the top, allowing the dreadheaded boy in. 

"What are you doing here?" Bill asked quietly, taking a seat on his bed, looking up at the younger boy with confusion in his eyes.

"Nothing," Tom said nonchalantly, running his fingers along the black sheets on Bill's bed, trying to remember the feeling, embedding it into his brain. "Just wanted to say hi."

When Tom smiled, Bill's face turned beet red. Thank God for darkness.

"Oh," was his reply, looking down at his lap as Tom plopped down beside him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. Tom's hand stroked Bill's arm up and down for a moment, stopping when he felt like he'd be able to remember the soft texture.

If in death he could dream, he only wanted to dream of Bill.

Bill furrowed his eyebrows and looked up at Tom confusedly. "What the hell are you doing?"

Tom smiled in response, hugging his best friend closer. "Nothing."

Bill pushed Tom's hand off of him, shifting to face him head on. "You're being weird," Bill stated, crossing his arms, a slight frown gracing his features. "What's going on?"

Tom didn't get a chance to answer, Bill's eyes suddenly widening, smacking him on the arm, missing a large bruise by a few inches.

"I forgot I'm supposed to be mad at you! Where the hell have you been?! I was worried about you- you...you...you  _dillhole_!"

Tom laughed, clutching his arm in mock pain. "I'm sorry! I was sick!"

"That's total bullshit Tom," Bill squinted his eyes, hitting him again, in the same spot thank God. "And stop laughing! This isn't funny."

Tom's laughter did stop, abruptly, and he reached out to touch Bill's shoulder, his hand running down the curve of his inner arm to his wrist.

This was all too intimate to be normal.

"You really _were_ worried, huh?"

"Duh," Bill said, looking away, his face heating up once again.

The next thing Tom did caught Bill completely off guard. Suddenly, he was pulled into a hard chest, a skinny arm wrapping around his waist and the familiar smell of Tom clouding his senses. Bill's eyebrows knit together once again but he hugged back, inhaling the scent of weed and Axe body spray. 

Tom ran his fingers through Bill's soft, gel-free hair and smiled. He was glad that his last memory of Bill would be this -- no makeup, no hair gel, no outrageous outfit. Don't get him wrong, he loved that about Bill, how he wasn't afraid to be himself. But he loved this more. Just Bill, plain and simple.

"Is everything okay?" Bill whispered, nuzzling his face into Tom's neck. "You're hugging me like you're saying goodbye."

 "I just missed you, okay?" He pulled back to look into Bill's dark chocolate eyes. Bill stared back but yawned two seconds in, letting go of Tom to cover his mouth.

"Aaaah...'m tired."

"Yeah..." Tom looked down wearily as Bill crawled back into the confines of his bed, readying himself for what he was about to do.

Standing, he turned to get one last look at Bill, wanting to cherish their final moments.

Bill's arm was extended, covers clutched in his hand, a silent invitation.

Tom's icy heart thawed at the sight.

"It's small, but...it's okay." He shrugged a dainty shoulder.

He looked down at his baggy jeans, grimacing at them.

"What are you doing?" He stopped unbuckling his belt and took in Bill's tense expression.

"I'm not sleeping in these, are you nuts?"

"Oh," Bill sheepishly replied, internally sighing in a mixture of relief and disappointment.

After letting his pants fall to his ankles, Tom stepped out of them and into the warmth of Bill's bed.

It was a little cramped, there was no denying  _that_. But it was cozy.

Bill felt comforted by Tom's embrace and found himself quickly succumbing to his body's needs.

Tom listened to Bill's breathing slow til soft snores could be heard. He gazed at Bill's moonlit features, gingerly placing a hand on his unmarred cheek. He tenderly brushed his thumb over the smooth skin, and his heart skipped a beat.  _Just a few more hours._

With that thought, Tom contentedly drifted off into a restful sleep.

 

* * *

 

~~_I love every last one of you_ ~~

~~_I love you, Bill_ ~~

~~_I'm going to miss everyone_ ~~

Tom sighed, massaging his throbbing temples as he stared down at the paper before him. He had never been good with words.

_~~Despite everything you've done~~ _

_~~I forgive you~~ _

_~~I won't haunt you when I'm a ghost I swear~~ _

He finally decided to take a break, letting the pencil fall from his hand and his head fall onto the wooden desk. He didn't want anything long and dramatic, he just wanted to get right to the point; but he couldn't. There was just so much to say, and he didn't know where to start. He glanced over at Bill's slumbering form, his heart dropping and soaring all at once.

He turned back to his paper, picking the pencil up once again.

_I love everyone in my life, but someone has to take the blame. I can't say it's no one's fault, because then I'd still be the lying asshole you're used to -- that's not how I want to be remembered. I want to be remembered as a strong, smart guy who tried his best to stick around. A guy who tried, and tried, and tried so hard until it felt like my fucking head was going to explode._

Tom glanced back at Bill once more.

_I want to be remembered as a guy who loved. Yes, love, at 14. I know what you're thinking, "you don't even know what love is." Well, shut the hell up, that's not even what I meant. I do love Bill. I'd touch the sky for him, I'd go to the ends of the world for him. I'd die for him if I had to. But the love I have for him isn't romantic. It's not platonic either. It's something else, something I've never seen before._

He tapped his pencil against the paper a few times, thinking.

_I stole a book from the library once. It was about reincarnation and shit like that. There was an entire page filled with quotes from this couple, who had claimed to be lovers, reincarnated, talking about how they felt about each other; it described how I feel about Bill exactly. We were meant to meet, I was meant-_

"Tom?" Bill's groggy voice cut through his thoughts, and he turned to see him sitting up on his elbow, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "What are you doing?"

Tom tried to discreetly shield the paper with his body, inching over to hide it from view. "Nothing."

Bill frowned, sitting up completely now.

"What's that behind your back?" he asked accusingly.

"It's nothing."

"Stop lying to me Tom," a hint of warning in his tone.

The blond teen was silenced by the simple request, deciding to not say anything at all.

Bill swung his long legs over the edge of the bed before standing, making his way over to Tom, his drowsiness ultimately forgotten. Tom hastily grabbed the piece of paper, balling it up in his fist. Bill towered over the sitting boy, placing one hand on his narrow hip and holding the other one out expectantly. "Give it to me."

Tom frowned and creased his eyebrows. "No."

"No?"

"No."

They stared at each other for a moment, Bill crossing his arms and tapping his foot impatiently.

"Tom, if you don't give me the goddamn paper _right_ now-"

"No."

"-I swear to God I'm going to lose my mind-"

"No."

"Tom, just give me the paper!"

"I said no! Why can't no ever just mean no? No, no, no, _no!"_

Bill clenched his jaw in frustration. He _hated_ being told no, and Tom knew that. Bill's anger rapidly dissipated, though, once a plan formed in his devious little mind. He fought back a smirk, donning a cute pout instead.

"Why are you being so secretive, Tom? I thought I was your best friend..."

Tom rolled his eyes at Bill's theatrics but decided to play along. "You _are_ my best friend, Bill."

Bill sniffled. "Then, why-"

"Hey, can we cut the bullshit," Tom retorted, standing up, the crumpled piece of paper still held in his hand. "I said no, no means no. OK? Can you go back to bed now?"

"No," Bill said firmly, crossing his arms. "And don't tell me to go to bed again Tom, because _no means no_."

Tom laughed at Bill's mocking. "I really-HEY!"

Bill snickered in triumph, holding the wrinkled ball of paper in the air like a trophy before darting across the room, backing himself up into a wall. He quickly unraveled the paper as Tom began to run towards him.

"Bill, you don't want to read that, just  _give it back_!"

The older teen only snickered again, eyes squinting to read the messy handwriting.

_So, I've decided to kill myself._

Tom sighed and ran a hand through his messy dreads when Bill's face utterly dropped, any and all lightness effectively dwindling.

"What is this?"

Tom didn't reply.

"What the  _hell_ is this?!"

" _Be quiet,_ you don't want your dad to wake up."

Bill's jaw went slack. " _Fuck_ my dad! Fuck- _what is this?!_ "

"What the hell does it look like, Bill?"

Bill balled the paper back up, letting it tumble to the ground, and stared icily at the boy before him. "Are you serious?"

Tom remained silent. 

"Were you _seriously_ thinking about doing this? About leaving me?" Tears welled up in his eyes as he clenched his fists. "Leaving the one person who needs you the most?!"

Bill had never felt so betrayed in his life. Didn't Tom know how much he needed him?

"Bill, I-"

Bill cut him off, shoving him into the opposite wall. Tom flinched as his sore back was hit, but he stayed quiet. "Is this how much I mean to you? You can just leave me without even a thought?!" 

"Bill, it's-"

"You didn't stop to think,  _hm, I wonder who's keeping Bill alive."_ Bill's voice wobbled with the last word, tears trailing down his face, and he wiped them away with his arm. "Well, it's you, Tom. It's  _you._ You're responsible for me, you know. I rely on you..."

Tom sighed and seized Bill by his thin waist, pulling him into his arms.

"I'm sorry," he apologized in a soft yet weary tone as the taller of the two melted into his embrace. "I didn't even think about that-"

"Of course you didn't," Bill sniffled, pulling away. "All you do is think about girls and shit." He wiped his eyes, before shoving Tom once again, his hand slamming into a bruise on his shoulder. "Am I not enough or something?"

Tom's face contorted in a look of excruciating pain, eyes watering as he nearly collapsed. Bill held him upright, however, harshly squeezing another bruise on Tom's arm, causing him to cry out.

"What's going on?" Bill asked frantically as he sat Tom on the edge of the bed. "I didn't even shove you hard..."

"I guess you're getting stronger." Tom chuckled humorlessly, his hand shielding the arm Bill just grabbed. 

"Tom..."

"It's nothing."

Bill squinted, placing his hands on Tom's shoulders before adding the slightest bit of pressure.

Tom didn't budge.

Bill's hands wandered lower to Tom's chest -- he bit back a yelp.

When the raven haired boy's perfectly manicured hands grazed his ribs only slightly, a groan slipped from between his tightly sealed lips, and he squeezed his eyes shut. 

Bill sighed as he quickly removed his hands, wrapping them around the hem of Tom's shirt instead, lifting it to expose the teen's battered abdomen. 

"God, Tom," Bill breathed as he examined the discolored patches of skin. He ran a finger over a big one on the teen's bony ribs. "Who did this to you?"

Bill didn't seem affected by Tom's lack of response. "Does it hurt?"

"Yeah." Tom sighed, tilting his head back. Bill's soft touch was oddly soothing; he wanted more.

As if reading his mind, Bill's wide, chestnut eyes blinked up at him curiously as he leaned forward, watching Tom's reaction. When his lips pressed against a small bruise on the younger boy's chest, his eyes fluttered shut, long eyelashes tickling Tom's skin. 

Despite the painful, nervous feeling swimming at the pit of his stomach and the soft shaking of his hands, Bill continued, moving down a bit to press his lips to another small, almost completely faded bruise. 

"Bill," Tom murmured quietly. "What are you doing?" Tom had been in a situation like this with a girl before, but that had led to...

"I'm helping," Bill said, just as quiet, eyes glued to Tom's chest, his hand letting go of Tom's shirt, instead, slipping under the oversized fabric, tentatively brushing against his equally bruised collarbones. 

The air was thick, and Tom felt like he was going to suffocate. His chest heaved, his breath catching as Bill nestled his face into his neck, slipping his hands around to Tom's back. "Who did this to you?" he asked softly. Tom sat there, dumbfounded, at a loss for words. "Was it someone at school?"

Bill felt Tom's head shake slowly.

Bill just lay against the boy's clavicle for a moment, affectionately stroking his back. Who could possibly want to hurt Tom...?

"Do you owe someone money?" Bill questioned, abruptly sitting up, staring at his best friend with wide eyes. "How much? I'll give it to you-"

Tom cut him off with a chuckle and a hand on his hip, personal space completely forgotten. "No, it's not-" Tom stopped to frown. "Well, I _do_ owe some people some money, but that's not what this is about."

Bill sighed and rested his cheek on Tom's shoulder, deciding that there was no use in asking, Tom obviously didn't want to tell him. 

Tom tried his best to keep his composure when Bill pressed a chaste kiss to his throat. It's not like they hadn't...they've...

This was just different; more intimate, more...

Tom didn't know, but he liked it. 

"It was my dad," he mumbled, and Bill stopped mid kiss, lips pressed against Tom's neck once again.

"What?" he asked, pulling back slowly. "Your _dad_ did this to you?"

Tom, once more, didn't reply.

Bill's eyebrows pushed together as he retracted his hands. "Why...?

"Why not? I'm an easy target."

Bill pursed his lips. "Can I see?"

Tom only got a chance to nod before his shirt was being pulled over his head and carelessly thrown to the ground. Bill's eyes were wet as he looked over the various marks, some black and blue, some fading to a muddy yellow color. He couldn't even imagine what Tom had to go through to get that many...

Before he knew it, tears were yet again falling down his cheeks. Tom sighed, tugging the boy back into his chest, stroking his hair. "Stop crying, it's ok."

"It's not ok," Bill sobbed. "I don't know why this happened to you, I..." he turned his head, mumbling into Tom's jaw. "I love you," Bill pulled back, cupping the dread-head's jaw.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He asked, pressing a chaste kiss to Tom's unsuspecting lips. "You could've told me," another kiss. "I'm always here for you."

"I know." Tom mumbled, the next kiss following soon after.

"You could've told me you were sad," a kiss to the cheek.

"You could've told me he was hurting you," a kiss to the jaw. "I would've helped you."

"I know." Tom responded, this time, instead of waiting for a kiss, initiating it, lips pressed firmly against Bill's. 

The butterflies in Bill's stomach turned to stone, weighing down the bottom of his stomach. 

Tom pulled back with a slight smile, and Bill was sure his face was the color of a firetruck.

"Kiss me again," he said. "Here."

Bill looked down to see Tom pointing to a bruise on his shoulder. Bill glanced back up at him, unsure, nevertheless ducking down to press his lips to it, softly. 

Tom pointed to a large blotch on the opposite side of his body, close to his ribs. Bill dropped to his knees on the carpeted floor before Tom, bringing his lips to the tender flesh. Tom let out an appreciative sigh. "Kiss me here-"

"What the hell is going on?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> And thanks everyone for the comments and kudos. ^3^


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much everyone for the comments and kudos! Means a lot. ♥

                                              

 

"I apologize for calling so late," Gordon said, placing two cups of coffee in front of the glaring parents before him. He forced an awkward smile, taking a seat on the opposite side of the table next to Bill. "But it was urgent."

"What could possibly be urgent enough to call us at ten o'clock? Isn't that family time or some shit?" Jörg mumbled offhandedly as he picked up the little tea cup, his large hand dwarfing the delicate fine china. 

"Yes, well," Gordon paused to take a sip from his own cup, "you couldn't possibly be that worried about family time -- which is actually quite important -- as your child was here," Gordon raised his eyebrows, "without a chaperone might I add."

Tom rolled his eyes from the seat on Jörg's right. Gordon could be such a pansy sometimes...

"Dad," Bill interjected, "me and Tom do things unsupervised all the time-"

"This is an adult conversation, little boy," Jörg said harshly, giving the scrawny teen a once over before chuckling. "Someone needs to teach you some manners..."

Tom scowled at the familiar look in his father's eyes; he knew it very well.

He noticed Bill shifting uncomfortably under his father's unabashed gaze, and he sighed.

"Can we hurry up and get this over with?" he groaned under his breath, slouching in his chair and crossing his arms, glaring menacingly at Gordon.

"Right," he cleared his throat, clearly aware of the tension in the room. "Yes, of course. I called you both here tonight to share with you what I've just witnessed, it was truly disturbing."

Bill glowered and Jörg smirked wickedly. God, what he wouldn't do to get some alone time with that boy, maybe teach him a lesson or two...

Once again infuriated by his father's disquieting gaze, Tom slammed his hand down onto the hard wooden surface, causing both Bill and Gordon to jump; his parents, being used to his sudden outbursts, remained unaffected. "Spit it out!"

"Tom," Bill said firmly and the dread-headed teen looked over at him for the first time since his parents had arrived. He shook his head disapprovingly, almost warningly, and Tom deflated with a sigh, slouching in his chair once again. 

Jörg stared at him with a shocked expression for a moment before laughing, taking a sip of his coffee. "He must be good," he chuckled, "to have you whipped like that, Tom."

Bill's eyebrows furrowed for what seemed like the hundredth time that night and looked to Tom in confusion. The other boy just shrugged.

"Excuse him," Simone spoke up, finally mustering up enough courage to speak; though, her voice still trembled with fear, afraid of slipping up. The last thing she wanted was Jörg causing a scene. "What exactly did you see?"

"Well, first I heard them yelling, arguing about something," Gordon said. "That's what woke me up. So, like any good parent would, I went to go check on Bill, but as I get closer to the door, I hear Tom telling Bill to kiss him in... _various_ places, and when I walk in I see Bill kneeling in front of him, kissing his-"

"Dick?" Jörg asked. Gordon grimaced.

"Chest. That, by the way, is bruised to all hell."

"We're aware," Simone said. "He had a...skateboarding accident."

"Wait," Jörg interjected, turning to look at his son, "did you get your dick sucked or what?"

Tom stared blankly at him.

Jörg rolled his eyes and redirected them towards Bill. "What's this little tramp's name again?"

"Excuse me?!" Gordon raised his voice.

"What's his goddamn name!?"

"It's Bill!" Gordon shouted. "Our sons have been close friends for nearly 3 years!"

Jörg ignored the last statement, smirking slightly, turning back to the raven haired teen who had his elbow on the table, chin rested in his palm as he watched the encounter with an air of confusion.

Jörg repressed a groan; he looked innocent as hell.

"So, Bill, did you suck my son off or what?" 

Gordon eyed him with an equally disgusted and baffled expression.

"No, sir," Bill said politely, just as he had been taught, before mumbling out a soft "not yet anyway."

A large grin spread across Tom's face and he couldn't stop the chuckle that tumbled from his pierced lips. Bill reciprocated it, and soon they erupted into a full blown laughing fit.

Gordon smacked Bill's thigh, but that didn't deter the boy from smiling wildly at Tom, still giggling softly.

"You see that! Bill only ever acts this way when Tom is around; he's a bad influence."

"What the hell do you want me to do about that?" Jörg asked, and Gordon pursed his lips. "Tom is no longer allowed to see Bill."

" _What_?"

"Dad!"

"I'm sorry Bill, it's for your own good. Look what he's doing to you! Turning you into some obedient little hussy! That is unacceptable. Who  _knows_ what he would've done to you, had I not intervened."

"You can't..." Bill's chest heaved. "You can't just do that!"

"Of course I can. And I _am._ I don't care what it takes, changing your school schedule, moving; he's not coming anywhere near you ever again."

"That's fine with me." Jörg muttered, crossing his arms.

"Well it's not fucking fine with me!" Tom shouted, rising from the table. "I don't know what you think you're capable of, but you could _never_ split us up."

Gordon rose, glaring at Tom. 

"Watch me."

* * *

 

Face buried in his fluffy black pillow, Bill petted the velvety sheets and whined at the emptiness. How he wished Tom could magically reappear by his side. A tremor ran up his spine at the thought of what had happened between them. Tantalizing heat washed through his body and he groaned, rolling over.  He didn't want to wait until Monday to see the beautiful, imperfect being he cared so much about.

Well, today  _was_ Sunday...but still! It was such a long and tormenting wait, and it was only 12:48.

Gordon had come upstairs to let him know lunch was ready, but Bill had no appetite and respectfully declined; as much as he wanted to yell and scream at him. After what he'd done, Bill's regard for his father drastically depreciated.

And the way Jörg had conducted himself... What a deranged fuck. First, he pummeled his only son for _no_ apparent reason,  _then_ he eyeballed Bill like some piece of meat, _drooling_ almost; what was next? Bill was revolted.

Sighing wistfully, he sat up to go take a shower.

Hand on the doorknob, he glanced back at his room, a spot on the floor catching his attention. He contemplated the small crumpled paper, his eyebrows imperceptibly drawing up.

Picking it up, he smoothed out the somewhat worn note and studied it for a minute.

_I do love Bill. I'd touch the sky for him, I'd go to the ends of the world for him._

He gazed fondly but sadly at the scrawl, reading on.

_I'd die for him if I had to._

_It's something else, something I've never seen before._

_We were meant to meet._

Bill's heart did flip-flops in his chest. Shit, did Tom really mean all that?

He inhaled deeply, squeezing his eyelids shut. Releasing his breath, he carefully set the paper down on his desk and went on to the bathroom.

Stepping into the shower, Bill took his time, lathering the coconut scented soap and just basking in the calming sensation the hot water brought.

Laying back against the cerulean tiled wall, he let the spray pelt his flushed chest, his mind wandering.

What would he have done had Tom went through with...it? Bill shuddered at the horrendous alternate reality his mind was imagining. Finding Tom, cold and lifeless on the floor, crimson blood trickling down his blanched skin, his departing note close by... Bill immediately banished the thought. He couldn't fathom his life without the other teen.

At last, he subsequently got out of the shower, wrapping himself up in a navy towel. Swinging his door open, he nearly jumped out of his skin. Speak of the devil, there Tom was, perched on the ledge of his window like it was nothing.

As if somehow sensing his presence, Tom's head swiveled around. Grinning like an idiot, he motioned with his hand, probably so Bill would open up.

Bill's expression sunk, moving toward the window and shifting the stupid lock into Tom's view, mentally cursing his father. Tom rubbernecked and scowled at the offending piece of metal for a moment, and then his face lit up. He held up his index finger, waggling it keenly, and hustled back down the flank of Bill's house.

Bill watched Tom run back to his house and fleetingly frowned before remembering he was still half naked. He hastily slipped on a pair of boxers and a shirt, vigorously drying his hair when a knock startled him. Spinning around, he was again greeted by Tom, except this time, he proudly waved a small notepad. Bill went digging for his own in the cluttered drawer of his desk. He readied himself to write, clicking his pen, but -- _thunk_  -- Tom was faster. A messy _sorry_ was plastered onto the glass pane and Bill gave him an admonishing look.

 **It's not your fault idiot** , he jotted down, and after a short pause added: **what happened when you went home?** Hesitantly, he supplemented: **you're okay, right? You didn't try anything...stupid...?**

He ripped off the page and positioned it parallel to Tom's eyes. They flicked from left to right -- Bill fidgeted nervously -- and softened, meeting Bill's own worry-filled gaze.

Tom scribbled on a new page:

_no_

_not after what happened between us_

They lingered, staring at each other, pulses quickening.

Tom stole the sheet back, annexing a small _I miss you._

 **Me too** , Bill returned, shortly thereafter plucking back the paper.

**I fucking hate my dad**

Tom's features screwed up.

_Tell me about it..._

**I don't want him to hurt you anymore** , Bill wrote, and Tom smiled softly, painfully. He didn't know what to say. 

 **I'd do whatever it takes** , Bill added a second later.

_what could you possibly do?_

**you could live with me**

Tom chuckled lightly.

_you and I both know that would never happen_

**I haven't stopped worrying about you**

**I hate worrying**

**I just wish you were ok**

_I'm ok_

**you're not ok**

Tom sighed; Bill was always right.

**if he hurts you again I want you to come here**

Bill watched with furrowed eyebrows as Tom hesitated, the dread-headed boy tugging at his lip ring. He finally sighed and scribbled something quickly, and when it was held up to the window, Bill grinned.

_ok._


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking longer to update, HittingSasukeIsFun is having wifi problemssssasdfghjk :c which unfortunately will last for an indeterminate amount of time, meaning updates will be slower from now on. (more or less every 3 days)
> 
> Anyway thanks again for reading our story and for the comments and kudos. ♥♥♥  
> Enjoy!

                                                                                        

 

Bill sighed, causing the window to fog as he stared up at the night sky.

It was almost 2 in the morning, and he couldn't sleep. Usually at times like this, Bill would sneak out from the window he was leaned against, maybe paying a visit to Tom's room, or maybe heading down to the river. 

He hated being locked in.

Bill turned to glance at the clock on his nightstand. It was officially 2:00 a.m. Great. With another sigh, he turned back to the window.

He looked fixedly out into the darkness, studying the twinkling lights in the onyx sky; not a cloud to be seen. There was nothing to be seen, actually. Just houses, really. Bill dreamed of living in a city that never sleeps, never ending cars on the streets, people, parties; he hated living in such a small, utterly _boring_ place. Nothing interesting ever made the local news, there was never anything to see. Suddenly, though, movement caught his eye. A heap of baggy clothes and unkempt blond hair moved in his direction -- Tom! What was he doing outside at this hour?

As he got closer, Bill squinted and saw a sanguine streak under his nose. Upon realization, Bill felt a sinking sensation. He also noticed he was infinitesimally limping. Fuck. Bill's throat constricted, tears threatening to spill out at any second. He scrabbled at the glass as Tom looked up at him.

He haltingly climbed up, much in contrast to other instances. Bill watched sorely as Tom awkwardly positioned himself, wincing all the while.

_I can't stay here anymore_

Bill hurriedly fetched his own notepad, but, putting his pen to the paper with a quivering hand, he was at a loss for words.

He peered up at Tom and Tom stared right back at him.

Bill's mind was clouded with thoughts of  _I love you, I love you, he can't hurt you, I need you, I love you;_  his best friend's safety was his biggest concern.

After a pregnant moment, Bill shakily etched out two words.

**let's leave**

Tom's eyes darted to Bill's determined gaze, as if to ascertain his intentions.

_where would we go?_

**It doesn't matter** , Bill wrote quickly, **a** **s long as we're together. As long as you're ok.**

Tom hesitated, glancing back at his own house. He knew he wouldn't miss it, there was nothing for him there. But Bill; Bill had the whole world ahead of him. So much talent, so much potential. He could really go far, and Tom was only holding him back.

Tom's head snapped back to the window when Bill's palm rested against it, watching Tom with a hopeful expression. The dread-headed teen placed his hand over Bill's.

"I love you," the raven haired boy mouthed, and Tom rested his forehead against the cool glass, sighing, and Bill mirrored him. "I love you." he repeated, eyes fluttering shut.

Tom looked down and, with his free hand, speedily jotted something down.

_get your stuff ready_

_I'll be back in 5 mins_

Bill promptly nodded as Tom shakily rose, making his way back down the wall of his house. He stood and ran a hand through his inky hair. _I can't believe I'm doing this._ He flicked on the lamp on the desk, and hastily grabbed his backpack, dumping the contents out. He ran to his closet, pulling out clothes and stuffing them into the bag at random. He snatched his piggy bank and shoved it into the bag as well. There had to be at least €200 in there. He made a little checklist in his head, stopping in the middle of the room. _Clothes, money, shoes_. He sighed, adrenaline coursing through his veins. He moved jerkily, breathing spasmodically, trying his best to be stealthy as he packed his bag to the brim.

A soft tap against the window made him jump, nearly dropping the bag. His perfectly manicured hand rose to cover his mouth. That reminded him... He held up one finger to Tom before opening his nightstand drawer, grabbing a small bottle of black nail polish. No more getting his nails professionally done... He gasped and spun around snagging his coal eyeliner. Tom glared at him and he couldn't help but smile. 

Bill finally made his way back over to the window, grabbing the lock with a frown, looking up at Tom with furrowed brows. Tom suddenly began pulling his long shirt over his head, and Bill flushed, blinking a few times. Their bodies were definitely _very_ different... Tom's chest wasn't flat like his, there where ridges and creases and he counted 6 abs. His arms where chiseled just enough to make Bill's mouth run dry. He must work out...

Bill was too entranced with Tom's body that he didn't notice the blond boy wrapping the shirt around his fist, a small smirk on his face when he noticed the other boy gaping at him. Tom motioned to step back, and when Bill did, his fist suddenly collided with the window, shattering it into hundreds of shards. Bill's eyes widened comically as Tom grabbed him by his collar, pressing their lips together. Tom's tongue shoved his way into his mouth, something he'd never tried before, but before he could attempt to explore the foreign intrusion, Tom pulled away.

He was suddenly hyper aware of the anxious tension, the sound of dogs barking angrily, the lights of houses suddenly flickering on, everyone curious about the loud noise of a smashing window.

"Come on!" Tom said urgently, grabbing Bill's hand and tugging him out of the window. Tom crawled down the side of the house first, holding out his arms to Bill, just in case. The taller boy let Tom help him down before grasping his hand once again, the two taking off down the street, not looking back even once.

 

* * *

 

"I think we're far enough," Bill gasped out. 

They slowed to a stop and all that was heard was a mingle of harsh panting, having sprinted for ten minutes straight.

Regaining their composure, they scanned the area. They were on a road dotted by bushes and surrounded by pastures and farmland. Bill sighed; he hated the outdoors.

"There," Tom said, pointing behind Bill. The grassy field stretched out a few hundred meters before it was cut short by a forest. Perfect.

They neared the fence on the opposite side of the street and Tom carefully held the barbed wire up for Bill to slip underneath, following suit. The two teens fell into step beside each other in comfortable silence.

Bill felt excited, he was practically buzzing. He looked over at Tom and admired his handsome features. He wore a mask of concentration, lost in thought, probably trying to work out what the hell they were going to do. Maybe Bill should have been trying to figure it out too, but he couldn't keep down the urges. He craved and itched for Tom's attention. He glanced down at the other boy's hand, swinging evenly next to him as he walked. Bill only hesitated a second before timidly slipping his into Tom's.

Tom seemed surprised at first but smiled sweetly a moment later, gently squeezing back in an almost reassuring way.

Before they knew it, they reached the wall of trees, seeping in. Their hands disconnected as the terrain became irregular and rocky. Bill struggled in vain to keep his footing and, after almost tripping for the third time, Tom sighed dramatically, placing a steadying hand on his hip. Bill flushed and grinned sheepishly. Fortunately, a few minutes later it ameliorated and they found a considerable patch of moss, deeming it a good spot to spend the night.

"Wait," Bill said, crossing his arms as Tom set his backpack up against a tree. "I have to sleep on the _ground_?"

"What did you expect? Luxury hotels?" Tom said, taking a seat on the slightly itchy ground. His face scrunched up in discomfort, but he internalized it. "We're not safe yet. We can't show our faces around here."

Bill groaned but acquiesced, taking a seat next to the blond boy who waited with open arms, grinning when he pulled Bill into his arms. The two lowered to the ground, Bill's head on Tom's chest and Tom's head supported by his free arm.

Lying close together, they gazed at the tremendous, dark sky. The moon was bright and the silvery light streamed through the branches overhead. It was almost like something out of a movie.

Tom rolled onto his side -- Bill mimicking the action -- and clasped their hands together between their chests. He stared into the crepuscular orbs, losing himself in them. He couldn't believe they were doing this. Never in his life did Tom think their bond would change this drastically, especially not seemingly overnight. It was like they both woke up one day with a new-found love for each other. At least, that's what he thought. His reverie was however cut short only a moment later when Bill's voice resounded in the stillness of the night.

"Tom?"

"Hm?" He closed his eyes, shuffling closer to Bill's warm body. Opening his eyes, he was somewhat startled by the proximity of their faces; regardless, he advanced further, giving him eskimo kisses.

"Uhhh..." Bill lost his train of thought, feeling intoxicated by Tom's ministrations and unusual amount of affection. Bill had watched him interact with girls before -- jealously, of course -- but it still came as a shock; he never thought it would be directed towards him. 

Tom snaked his arm around Bill's waist, lingeringly skimming his fingertips from his hip up to his back, flustering him even more. Reeling, Bill gripped the other boy's shoulder to steady himself and Tom yanked him into his chest. Bill let out a small gasp but quickly reciprocated, sneaking his hand around the back of his head. He buried his blushing face in the crook of Tom's neck, brushing his nose and lips over the sensitive flesh. Tom shuddered, pulling away enough to look heatedly into the brunet's eyes, glinting in the moonlight. The tension between them was almost palpable, both breathing heavily. Bill moved in, and Tom parroted him, lips mere centimeters apart. Bill's hot breath on him drove Tom crazy. He caught the older teen's lips gently, sweetly, unlike earlier that night, and electric heat surged through them.

The two precipitated themselves, mouths moving frantically over each other, tongues clashing. Bill heedlessly tried to follow the more experienced teen, the grasp on his ashy dreads tightening. Abruptly, Bill broke the kiss, and Tom stared with hooded, lust-clouded eyes.

"Maybe we should," he took a deep breath, "slow down a little..." Tom sobered at that.

"Are you okay?" he asked warily.

Bill blinked at Tom in surprise. "Yeah! Of course! No, it's nothing like that, I just..." He eased himself down, cuddling into the younger teen's chest. "It's late, and I'm tired..." he rasped out and affectionately rubbed his face against Tom, inhaling his scent.

Grunting, Tom twisted himself around to pluck two shirts from his backpack, laying one on Bill and the other on himself. Bill snaked his hands underneath Tom's makeshift blanket and Tom stroked his sooty tuft of hair.

The two boys gratifyingly fell asleep under the starry night sky, dreaming of the exciting things to come.


	6. Chapter 6

                                                                       

Bill awoke with a start, balling soft fabric in his fists. His head whipped around, taking in his surroundings. Trees, grass, birds,  _a loud ass train._ He groaned and looked down at Tom, his shirt riding up where Bill's hand was gripping it, showing off his- 

Bill shook his head and let the boy go, patting his shirt into place. 

"What is that fucking noise?" Tom grumbled, covering his eyes with his forearm. Bill didn't respond, just laid his head back on Tom's chest, trying to get a few more minutes of sleep in. Tom moved his arm from his face to wrap it around Bill's neck, rubbing his shoulder soothingly. Tom's stroking paired with the steady thump of the blond's heartbeat began to slowly lull Bill back to sleep, his tired eyes drooping before fluttering shut.

_Honk! Honk!_

"For fuck's sake..." Tom sighed as he sat up, ultimately giving up on sleep.

Bill whined in protest, grabbing the younger boy's arm and clutching it to his chest. "Sleepy..." he mumbled, and Tom smiled softly.

"We have to keep moving," he said, pulling his arm away, "or they'll find us."

Bill sighed and sat up, a silent agreement. Tom began to rise, but stopped when he noticed Bill reaching into his bag. "Do you have food in there?" he asked, stomach growling as if on cue.

Bill looked up at him, a slight frown on his face as he pulled out a small mirror and a tube of liquid eyeliner. "No, sorry."

"Really, Bill?" Tom sighed as Bill began to clean up and perfect his makeup.

Bill glared at him. "Of course, Tom."

Tom just groaned and leaned against the rough bark of a tree, watching Bill apply the eyeliner with a steady and practiced hand. He suddenly snapped the mirror shut, shoved it into his bag and rose, walking over to the blond, smiling softly. He pecked his cheek and keenly pat it a few times. "Let's go."

He went past Tom, going on his merry way, and Tom raced after him. "Go where?"

"I don't know. There's only one lane in Zielitz anyway."

Tom grunted, shrugging a shoulder. True.

Rounding a large structure 20 meters away from the train station, Tom abruptly yanked Bill's shirt, making him trip backwards. Opening his mouth to yell at Tom, he was cut off by a hand covering it instead.

"Cops," the younger teen whispered. Shit.

They backed into the side of the building and the panicked, raven haired teen started to babble nonsense in a hushed but distressed voice. "What are we gonna do? If they see us they'll bring us back! We'll be in so much trouble, you broke the fucking window! Tom-"

"Shut up!"

They stared at each other in tense silence and Bill picked up on a low, muted sound. It grew louder each second and he gasped in realization.

"The train..." He peeked out from behind the concrete wall, witnessing the arriving train, also taking note of the police cars he'd failed to notice a minute prior. "It's-"

"Run." And that's what Tom did.

"Are you crazy?!" Bill's eyes grew as big as saucers but he shadowed Tom anyway, trying to keep up with his speed.

Nearing the tiny railway station, the train was at a standstill, waiting, tall and imposing on the rusty tracks.

As they passed the small house encompassing the station's reception, Bill glimpsed to the right as Tom frantically and repeatedly clicked the glowing green button on the door. Two policemen were standing a stone's throw away; Bill's heart hammered in his chest and he impulsively crowded into Tom's back. When the door finally unlocked, one of the men pointed at the two runaway teens, slapping the other's chest to get his attention. Stumbling into the train, Bill stared out through the glass. "They see us," he uttered as the train chugged and the officers began to rush towards them. The two boys huddled in front of the glass-framed door, relaxing slightly when the men faded from their view.

"That was..."

"Close," Tom completed.

Thankfully there weren't too many people on board, and they settled into a four-seat section, sitting opposite each other.

Bill propped his elbow up on the edge of the window, rubbing at his damp forehead and exhaling loudly.

After a short lapse, Tom wondered out loud where they were even headed. Bill poked his head out and the bright red letters on the narrow LED display hung from the ceiling instantly caught his eye. "Stendal," Bill quoted.

After another short while, Tom spoke up again.

"When we get there they'll probably be waiting for us...since they saw us..." Anxiety crept up on Tom and he fidgeted nervously, picking at his thumbnail. If they weren't careful, they could get themselves into some deep shit.

"Hey," Bill said, resting a hand on the boy's bouncing leg. Tom glanced up at him, but looked back down almost immediately. "We're gonna be ok."

"Yeah," Tom didn't sound very sure. "I just don't want you to regret doing this..."

Bill ran a hand through his gel-free hair, before supporting his head with an elbow on his knee. "Stop worrying about me," he murmured. "I'm doing this for you, I'm not gonna regret it."

Though Tom didn't believe him, he smiled anyway.

After the fairly short and restless trip, they successfully sneaked off the train. Hiding out for 20 minutes, they boarded a new one to Berlin.

 

"Excuse me?" 

Tom groaned loudly. "Go away."

There was a soft chuckle. "Grumpy, are we?"

With another drawn out groan Tom's eyes fluttered open, clutching Bill's slumbering body closer to his possessively at the sight of the middle aged man before him.

"Is this seat taken?" The man nodded towards the seat in front of him, and he wondered when Bill moved to the seat next to him, but his groggy mind wasn't able to come up with an answer. 

"No," he grumbled before resting his head back to Bill's shoulder, eyes falling shut. It was silent for a moment, and Tom hoped that man had finally decided to leave him the fuck alone. 

"'S that your brother?" The man spoke up again, and Tom opened his eyes to glare at him. "Very pretty."

Tom's face scrunched up in disgust, hugging him closer. "No. Go away."

The man only chuckled, and the mere sound of it pissed Tom off beyond compare. "You're the two runaways, huh?"

Tom perked up at that, sitting up straight. "What do you mean?"

"It's all over the news, saw it on TV this morning" the man claimed, and Tom tensed. "I have a place in Berlin...if you two need a place to stay."

Tom stared incredulously. "Are you out of your fucking mind?" He snapped at the shocked man. "Do you think I'm stupid, you fucking pedo?" 

The man grimaced. "Where the hell else are you gonna go? They're looking for you, you know. You'd better take advantage of my generosity." 

"And you'd better fuck off. We don't need you, we're fine."

With a grunt and a "fucking useless," the man rose and took off, leaving Tom alone with his thoughts.

He knew he was bluffing, he had no idea where the hell they were going to go; but the last thing he needed was some creep lusting after his best friend. He'd rather live in a ditch.

Tom just held Bill for the remaining 10 minutes of the trip, idly observing the flashing scenery. After waking the slumbering teen when the train finally arrived, they faltered out the sliding doors in a daze. Though being extremely well-rested, they were famished. The two walked hand in hand down an unfamiliar street, stomachs rumbling and grumbling.

"God," Bill groaned, clutching his stomach with his free hand. "I'm so hungry."

"Me too," Tom said, though it didn't show, as he was used to the pains of hunger. He looked around, in search of a place to eat. His eyes landed on a small gas station, and he tugged Bill's hand in its direction. "We can get something from here."

They walked in, hands still intact, and Bill led Tom down the various isles, scavenging for a meal.

"Just shove it in your fucking jacket and let's go!"

"There's too much shit in my jacket already!"

"Put it in your pants then!"

Bill's eyes narrowed as they exited an isle, eyeing the questionable huddle of boys.

"Put it in _your_ pants!"

"Fuck no!"

"Hey," Bill called out, earning weird looks from both the boys and Tom. "Need some help?"

Tom furrowed his brows and squeezed Bill's hand in warning, but the taller boy only smiled.

"Uhh, no," a tall brunet said, shifting from foot to foot, "thanks."

"Looks like you do." Bill asserted, pulling his hand from Tom's tight grasp and making his way over to the intimidating group of boys. He heard Tom call for him to come back, but he was steadfast.

"Why don't you mind your own business, kid?" A short, stocky boy with dirty blond hair said. 

"I'm helping you," Bill said curtly, eyeing the last boy, a tall bleach blond wearing a large, frumpy jacket. "You do realize it's like 30°C out there, right? You look suspicious."

"Yeah, no shit, kid," the stubby blond added, advancing on the scrawny boy.

Tom stepped in front of Bill, crossing his arms silently.

"I could buy it for you," Bill suggested, stepping out from behind the dread-headed teen. "I have like 200 bucks."

The boys laughed, and Tom glared at him.

"You're really naive, kid," the brunet chuckled. "But ok, if you insist."

Bill only grinned, holding out his hand expectantly. The bleach blond pulled a few sandwiches and water bottles from under his jacket and handed them to the shorter boy.

Bill wordlessly grabbed Tom's hand and walked towards the cash register, leaving the 3 boys alone and gaping.

"What the hell was that?" Tom hissed once they were out of earshot.

Bill grinned once the un-purchased items were delivered to the cashier, turning to face his frowning companion. "I'm being nice," he stated matter-of-factly. "Karma and shit. Maybe we'll get something in return."

Tom snorted, rolling his eyes, but he couldn't help but be indulgent.

The cashier handed Bill the bag of purchased items with a small smile, which he returned without hesitation before pulling Tom towards the exit, the group of boys following them as they went.

"Thanks, man," the tall blond said when he was offered the bag. "That was really cool of you."

"No problem!" Bill beamed with a smile so sweet it could rot teeth. The three boys seemed taken aback by the undeserved kindness.

"Uh, ok, well-uh," The brunet stuttered, scratching the back of his neck. "We're gonna go now..."

"OK!" Bill gleamed, still smiling brightly. 

The three older boys looked at each other weirdly before silently withdrawing themselves, and Bill gave them one final wave before turning to face a scowling Tom.

"What the hell?" he asked. "We didn't get anything in return! Fuck Karma!"

"Don't say that!" Bill scolded in Karma's defense, smacking the boy's chest. "It takes time."

"Fuck time." Tom grumbled, crossing his arms, and Bill sighed.

"Stop being so grumpy. Now come on, let's go back inside, I'm still hungry."

Tom groaned but followed him anyway.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **UPDATE:**  
>  So sorry for the hiatus! We've been having a few issues but will definitely be back next week with chapter 8. :)  
> Thanks for reading. ♥

                                                             

 

Tom watched as his best friend's chest rose and fell with each slow breath, rosy lips slightly parted. He tilted his head back onto the cool brick wall, eyelids briefly sliding closed. Sleep was just a blink away, and the mere thought of slipping into the replenishing state of unconsciousness made his limbs grow heavy; yet, he couldn't. It was his responsibility to watch out for the sleeping teen next to him, and succumbing to his body's need for rest was the least best way to do so. Someone could easily steal Bill from right under his grasp.

Perhaps deeming the dodgy alleyway as a place to rest was a bad idea.

Tom's eyes immediately snapped open at the sound of advancing footsteps, glaring at the two men making their way towards him, both of them shielded by an intimidating cloak of darkness. Tom pulled Bill closer, pushing the raven haired boy's face into his chest with a hand tangled in his soft black curls, and the older boy sighed contently, snuggling close, obviously unaware of the two men stalking predatorily towards them. 

"Hey," the taller one said, stopping in front of the two young boys, a large smirk on his face. Tom wanted nothing more than to beat the smug right out of him.

Obviously put off by the boy's silence, the shorter one pushed his wide framed glasses further up his nose, clearing his throat. "Can we get a good look at your, um, friend?"

"Excuse me?" Tom gritted through clenched teeth.

"Well we're not going to pay for something if we don't know if it's good enough." The beefy man with the receding hairline let out a gruff, hearty laugh, and Tom's jaw tensed even more.

"He's not for sale."

The two men glanced at each other in confusion.

"A-are you?" the scrawny one asked, pushing his glasses up once again.

"No."

Bill shifted in his sleep, most likely reacting to Tom's accelerating heartbeat, and the blond ran a trembling hand through Bill's short hair soothingly.

"Are you the oldest?" the beefy guy asked, ignoring the teen's previous answer.

"No."

"Are you b-brothers?" the mousy man stuttered, sounding oddly excited as he glanced over to his companion.

"No. Go away."

He looked slightly hurt, his thin lips pulling downwards as he took a step back. The husky man huffed and pinched the bridge of his nose. 

"Listen kid, we're prepared to pay however much it takes to get you two for the night, so stop being difficult."

"I-I want the dark haired one," the skinny man muttered. "The blond is too feisty."

"€50,000," Tom said simply, ignoring the small man's comment. 

"Let's be realistic." The broad man sighed, and Tom shook his head. 

"No."

"€1,000."

"No."

"€5,000."

"No."

"T-ten thousand?" the timid man said quietly, and Tom scowled. 

"No. €50,000. I'm not going any lower."

The two men glanced at each other.

"Fine," the beefy man smirked, turning back to him, "€50,000. Sold."

"Uh," Tom felt his heart pounding against his chest, and he let out a shaky breath, "e-each," he tried, but the beefy man only clicked his tongue.

"Nuh-uh. No going back now, kid."

Tom sighed and lowered his gaze. At this moment, he wished he was more like Bill; he wished he could just play innocent, or at least have the ability to sweet talk himself out of this. But that just wasn't in Tom's nature, he always had to talk back, to have the last word, to say the meanest thing he could think of. 

"We don't have all day!" the bulky man snapped, and Tom jumped a bit, clutching a now frowning Bill closer to his chest.

"Try not to scare them too much..." the mousy man mumbled, pushing his glasses up once again. That one simple motion was really starting to piss Tom off.

"Fuck that," the other man laughed, "this one thinks he's tough shit, he can handle a little yelling."

Tom glared at him.

"Just don't scare mine," Mousy said. "I want him to feel comfortable with me..."

"Not gonna happen, get over it," Beefy mumbled, eyeing Tom impatiently. "We don't have all day! Wake him up and let's go!"

Tom was just about to snap back, but a small groan stopped him dead in his tracks.

"What's going on?" Bill asked quietly, a deep frown on his features as he sat up, eyeing the two strange men warily. 

"Nothing," Tom said, his face immediately softening at the sight of the confused boy. "I'm handling it."

"I don't know..." Bill said, unsure, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. "It doesn't look handled, Tom."

"You're very pretty!" Mousy interjected, and when Bill only stared blankly at him, the man took another step back, cast down.

"Look," Tom sighed in defeat, meeting Beefy's beady eyes, "I made a mistake, ok? I was being an asshole, I'm....sorry, I guess."

Bill patted Tom's shoulder, a prideful expression on his face. 

A soft chuckling sound quickly turned into full blown laughter, and the three turned to glance at Mousy, who was nearly doubling over from laughter. 

"Uh..."

"You _really_ think we're just going to let you go because of some _apology?_ " He laughed menacingly again, and Tom furrowed his eyebrows.

How did he just change so quickly?

"I agree," Beefy added, "though it's annoying as hell, your smart ass mouth got me hard. And Karl has a thing for the innocent ones."

The man, _Karl_ , knelt down in front of them, holding out a hand to caress Bill's face. "I haven't seen one this pure in _years,_ " he muttered in awe. "I'm gonna have so much fun with you..."

Tom's vision began to blur as a cloak of red hot fury was wrapped tightly around him, clouding his senses. His hands began to tremble, his heart began to pound, and he went numb, not even able to feel Bill's hand on his shoulder. Everything sounded muffled, like he was underwater, he could hear Bill speaking, but his words never met his ears. He looked at Bill, red blurring the edges of his vision. He focused on Bill's lips, _Bill's lips, Bill's lips,_  Bill's pretty pink lips, trying desperately to calm himself down. 

Both boys knew the serious damage Tom could cause if he didn't calm down.

"Tom, Tom, Tom," he heard, and the red began to fade as he watched Bill's lips wrap prettily around each word, "calm down."

He began to regain his senses; he could make out Bill's features perfectly, no traces of red. He tasted the blood on his tongue, and he realized he'd been biting it. He could feel Bill's hand in his, but there was another one. Another one. Another hand rested on his shoulder. He squeezed his eyes shut before opening them again, turning to stare dumbly at the hairy hand rested on his shoulder. A hairy hand connected to a hairy arm, connected to...

He glared up at Mousy, the scrawny man stared back at him, his lips were moving but Tom couldn't hear. The red was back. The red was back. But it wouldn't last for long.

Soon, things went black.

 

" _Tom, Tom, Tom, Tom_..." 

The blond groaned loudly, his vision going from black to blurry. He saw red again, but this time it wasn't fury. It was blood. Once his senses were completely back, he was suddenly hit with reality.

"Tom," Bill shrieked, and he turned. The older boy was crowded against the brick wall, tears running down his flushed cheeks. He peered down to see Beefy kneeling before him, head hanging, hand clutching himself between his legs. "We have to go!"

Tom looked in front of him, lowering his fist. Mousy laid beneath him, his face almost unrecognizable. Blood was everywhere. His nose, his mouth, Tom's fist.

"Please!" Bill screamed again, and Tom glanced back over to him, watching the once kneeling man begin to rise shakily. He quickly pushed himself off the ground rushing over to the terrified boy, grabbing him by his arm, before running off.

 

* * *

 

Munching happily on his fries, Bill softly hummed a tune to himself. Tom was yet again lost in thought, brows furrowed and a slight frown tugging on his lips. Bill ducked his head, forcing himself into Tom's vision. The blond drew back the tiniest bit, no doubt startled out of his contemplating. "What?"

"Stop with that face." He poked between his eyebrows and it only made Tom scowl more, slapping his finger away. He pressed his knuckles into his cheek, glaring out the window, and Bill huffed, gloomily finishing his Happy Meal. Tom had been silent ever since what happened the night before, and Bill couldn't help but to think it was his fault. He could've done more to calm Tom down, he could've woken up earlier to talk them out of it, he could've, he could've, he could've- but he didn't, and it felt like he had failed.

Tom sighed once he noticed Bill's frown. He knew this entire thing was hard on them both; instead of moping, he needed to do his job. He needed to make things better.

He picked up a fry and flicked it at the boy, hitting him on his nose. Bill looked at him, and when he smiled, Bill grinned back. It felt good.

"Hey." A voice came suddenly from beside them, and Tom visibly tensed, eyes locked with Bill's. The tall boy glanced over and his grin widened. Tom frowned and looked over too, coming face to...groin with the three boys from the gas station.

"Rough night?" the bleach blond asked, sliding into the booth next to Bill.

"Yeah," he sighed, scooting over to give the boy more room. "You?"

The tall brunet chuckled, sliding in next to Tom, and the dread-headed teen reluctantly scooted over. "Let's just say it was better than yours."

"What do you mean?" Tom asked, frowning.

"We saw everything that happened last night," the bleach blond said, stealing a fry from Bill's tray.

"We found this," the stocky blond tossed a newspaper onto the table, and Tom quickly grabbed. "Wanted to check on you, _newbies_."

Tom quickly unrolled the paper and on the very first page, the headline read:  **Two missing Loitsche teens suspected as runaways. More on the overnight disappearance on page 12.** Tom flipped the thin pages in haste, almost ripping one, and furrowed his eyebrows.

"What exactly did you see?" Bill asked, frowning. 

**Bill Trümper, 15, and Tom Kaulitz, 14, caused quite a commotion late Sunday night as the elder teen's window was broken, and he was seemingly swept away into the night by the younger of the two.**

"Not much," the brunet said, "just this _crazy fucker_ beating the _shit_ out of some old dude."

**According to locals, Bill was the ideal child: good grades, always polite and helpful. Tom was the complete opposite. The two together was an odd sight, Bill with his bubbly personality, flashy clothes; and Tom with his nonchalant demeanor and rather laid back appearance. The two were inseparable, though, according to close friends. " _Bill was always hanging off of Tom's arm_ ," Amy, 16, said. " _They were very close_." Closer than anyone expected, it seems.**

"He was totally vicious," the bleach blond chimed in.

**At the scene of the disappearance, a letter was found. An alleged suicide note from Tom. In this note, he goes into detail about his feelings towards his friend, writing " _I do love Bill. I'd touch the sky for him, I'd go to the ends of the world for him. I'd die for him if I had to._ " He then says that the love they share is "something [he's] never seen before."**

"Which is why we're here now," the brunet said, glancing at the boy beside him. "We have an offer."

**Could this be the love story of the century?**

"We want you two in our gang."

_**We think so.** _


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Thanks so much for reading, and pleeeeaaaase don't forget to comment and leave kudos! It means a lot. ♥

 

                                                                 

"So this is it."

Tom stared up at the rundown building, frowning.

"Uh..."

"It's not much," the bleach blond, Andreas, said, turning to look at the two baffled boys behind him. He gave them a slight smile before turning back to the abandoned building, "but it's all we've got."

Bill hummed in response. "I like it," he said, smiling once everyone's eyes were on him. "Looks cool."

"I like your optimism, kid," Georg, the brunet, chuckled, shoving the shorter boy playfully, sending him stumbling back into Tom's chest. "Let's enter, hm?"

They were lead through the creaky revolving doors and past a second set of glass doors a few meters ahead, several cracks scoring the smooth surface. The two youngest teens peered around, curiously observing the relatively large room. On one end were a pair of elevators and in the back, a long chestnut desk with a backroom further behind it.

"Is this a hotel?" Bill asked inquisitively.

"Yeah, I mean, it used to be. It was a brewery too, the cellar still has all the machinery and stuff, but now we use it for-" Georg was cut off by a swift slap on the arm from Andreas and he rolled his eyes.

"Can we go see?"

"No," the blond said sternly, "we have to go see Bushido."

Bushido?

"Who's that?" Tom spoke up this time, eyebrows furrowed. 

"The boss," Georg breezily replied with a wink and backed into a door on the left of the front desk, pushing it open. The five of them crowded into the dim room and Andreas flicked on a flashlight, illuminating the way. They leisurely marched up to the second floor, their shoes clanking on the metallic stairs. Going through the open doorway, they were met by a cute blonde girl who raced past them down the stairwell with a quick "hey guys" and a wave, which the three older teens easily returned.

Continuing down the windowless hallway, they stopped at the last door and Gustav, the stocky blond, gave three loud knocks on the nicked cream-colored wood.

"Come in," a deep voice seeped out from the hotel room.

The two younger boys glanced warily at each other.

"Don't worry," Georg reassured, smirking as he twisted the doorknob, "he's gonna like you." With one last wink to the taller of the pair, he opened the door.

The scruffy, olive skinned man lay upon a wide bed, arm wrapped around an attractive strawberry blonde's neck, wearing an even wider smirk. "Welcome, boys," he said, nodding to the three, before looking over at the other two. His smirk broadened at the sight of the skinny, dark haired girl. She was tall, nearly 6 feet, give or take a few inches, and his eyes trailed up her never-ending legs clad in a pair of tattered jeans, a black belt adorning her slim hips. His eyes traveled to her flat chest -- he frowned -- hugged tightly by a plain black shirt that contrasted beautifully with her pale skin. Short, wavy hair framed her pretty face, and her wide, childlike eyes were rimmed with coal. 

He licked his lips, grinning when she shifted uncomfortably.

"And who's this?"

"This is Bill," Andreas motioned to the tall girl, "and this is Tom."

Bushido glanced disinterestedly at the dread-headed blond before looking back to the raven haired girl. "Bill?" he asked. "That short for Billie, or something?"

"Uh, no," Bill shifted awkwardly. "It's not short for anything."

"No?" the man asked, scowling slightly. He stared at her for a second, before chuckling. "Oh, so you're a boy?"

"Um, yeah." Bill glanced back at Tom, extending his hand when he noticed the boy's frown. Tom grabbed it without hesitation, and their fingers laced together. 

Bushido raised an eyebrow, eyeing their entwined hands. "'S this your boyfriend then?"

The two boys glanced at each other, before looking away, blushing.

"Uh..."

"Maybe this will answer your question." Gustav said, before tossing the rolled newspaper onto the bed, and the man grabbed it with a hum.

"Have a seat," he said offhandedly, unrolling the flimsy paper. "Heidi, get them something to drink."

The woman nodded, slipping out from under the sheets. Her long, pin straight hair reached to her waist, barely covering her breasts, and the four boys jaws went slack. Bill rolled his eyes and let his hand fall from the gawking boy's, plopping down onto the love-seat behind them. 

"Only 15, hm?" Bushido mumbled to himself, scanning the article. "You broke his window. That's pretty ghetto."

" _Ghetto_?" Tom asked, the English word feeling extremely foreign on his tongue.

"It means badass, basically."

"Oh."

Heidi strolled back into the room, handing each boy a bottle of water, before slipping back into the bed.

"Ok," Bushido finally said, dropping the paper. "So they're runaways. And?"

"Well, we think they'd make a good addition to the gang," Georg said.

"Why?"

"This kid," Andreas nodded to Tom, "is fucking vicious. He beat the _shit_ out of this guy last night."

"He's probably dead," Gustav said with a nod. 

"Blood was everywhere," Georg supplemented. 

"Oh? And the pretty one?"

The three boys considered the skinny boy as he absently chipped his nail polish off.

"Well," Georg said, shifting, "we don't really know..."

Bushido grunted, unimpressed. 

"He'd be great with the scavengers," Andreas said, thoughtfully. "That pretty face of his could probably get us some good stuff."

"I'm not just a pretty face..." Bill huffed, crossing his arms.

"You're right," Bushido said, "you've got a pretty little body, too."

Bill frowned.

"No, no, he can do stuff," Tom defended. "He's a pretty good actor."

"Is that so?" Bushido asked, and Bill nodded, smiling. "Can you cry on demand?"

"Every good actor can."

"Do it."

Bill sighed, but nodded anyway. He drew his eyebrows together, trying to picture the saddest thing he could think of. Dead puppies. Starving children. He groaned internally. No, no, those wouldn't work...

He peered up at Tom, his mind going back to the night that led them here. He imagined what would've happened if he hadn't woken up. _Tom would've died._ Just that thought alone caused his eyes to water, but that wasn't enough. He pictured Tom laying unresponsive and breathless on the ground by the river, a gun gripped in his right hand. He envisioned Tom's funeral, him clutching onto his best friend's grey casket, screaming as his dad tried to pull him away.

He let out a sob and a sniffle, and everyone stared at him in awe. 

"Wow," Bushido said. "Didn't think you could do it."  

"Told you he was good," Tom asserted proudly, smiling.

 

* * *

"...and this is where we eat."

They paused in front of the ornate, albeit worn-down double doors on the right end of the lobby, the word _Brauerei_ written elegantly in winding letters above them. Andreas pushed open one of the doors and it swung back after Tom as he entered last, teetering back into its original position.

Sturdy and decrepit looking mahogany tables and chairs were dotted closely together, surrounded by matted red booths and encompassing a fairly marred rectangular bar complete with matching stools. In one corner there was even a small, round stage, although pathetically bare.

"Is there any beer left?"

Bill looked at the blond with a bored expression, pursing his lips and shaking his head beratingly, and Tom just grinned back stupidly at him.

"No," Georg admitted sadly and quickly added when Tom opened his mouth, "but there  _is_ some vodka and tequila left."

"Ca-"

"But they're for special occasions," he interrupted, a knowing smirk playing on his lips.

Tom sighed in defeat.

Bill on the other hand was keenly studying the place, running his fingertips over the smooth, dusky wood and poking the low-hanging ceiling lanterns coated in dust and cobwebs from years of inactivity. Engrossed and somewhat charmed by the deteriorated antique brewery, Bill paid no attention to the others' idle chat and didn't even notice them retreat back to the exit.

"C'mon," Andreas called, "next stop's your room," and Bill turned, reluctantly joined them.

 "So, how many people live here anyway?" Tom asked as they traveled up the stairs again.

"It's more complex than that," Gustav murmured. "There aren't _residents_ , it's more like-"

"Members," Georg butt in as they reached the top of the steps. He pushed open a door, leading them into a long hallway. "We have about 20 members. Not all of them live here though."

"Why not?" Bill asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

"Everyone has a job," said Andreas, glancing back at the two curious boys. "Like...the prostitutes-"

" _Prostitutes?_ "

"-they're always on the move, so they don't exactly _live_ here."

"They come here to eat, bathe, and then they're back to fucking!" Georg said with a lopsided smirk, and Bill gaped at him incredulously.

"So...can we see the prostitutes?" Tom asked, earning a swift smack to the head and icy glare. He only grinned.

"No," Gustav said, stopping in front of a door.

Reaching for the doorknob, it suddenly twisted on its own and the door swung open. They were faced by the same blonde who'd rushed past them earlier.

"Oh hey, I just finished your bed," she said, backing up to let the cluster of teens through.

The tall windows were wide open, letting in a fresh breeze, and at the head of the bed were two fluffed up pillows and a large light blue comforter draped over the whole thing. There was one splintered nightstand on the left of the bed, adorned by a small golden lamp. Bill touched the wall as he surveyed the room, picking at the peeling wallpaper.

"Thanks," he beamed at the girl.

"No problem," she smiled back. "I'm Natalie. Bill, right? And Tom?"

"Yup," Bill confirmed, taking a seat on the bed to test out its comfiness.

"Welcome to Sonny Black."

The two newcomers glanced at each other in confusion.

"It's our gang name," she giggled. "Anis made it up."

"Um..."

"Bushido," Andreas informed before Bill got the chance to ask.

Tom grimaced slightly at the mention of the man's name. The way he was staring at Bill...it made him think of his dad. It made him sick.

"Wait," Bill said slowly, rising to observe the small room with wide eyes and flaming cheeks. "Only one bed?"

Natalie smirked slightly, blue eyes flitting between the two young boys before her. "Yup."

"That's...cool...I guess."

She just hummed in response, smiling knowingly as she plopped down onto the bed, gazing up at them.

"So let me guess. They put you," she nodded towards Tom, "with the scavengers?"

"Yeah. How'd you know?" Georg asked, sitting down next to her. "Did we tell you about him and-"

"Yes, you did," she cut him off, rolling her eyes. "You told _everyone_."

"It was badass!" he shouted out in his defense.

"I don't know about you though," she said, ignoring the long haired boy in favor of eyeing Bill curiously. "Prostitutes maybe?"

Bill's jaw dropped.

"Oh my _God_ ," Tom choked out, nearly doubling over from the force of his laughter. "Oh man, that's so funny!"

"It's not funny!" Bill cried out, smacking the laughing boy in the stomach. It only made him laugh harder.

"So...that's a yes?" the blonde girl asked quizzically.

" _No!_  That's a _no!_ "

"We tried," Andreas sighed. "He'd make us so much money that way-"

Tom laughed harder. 

"No he wouldn't!" He wailed, eyes watering. "Oh my God, _no!_ "

" _Hey_ ," Bill shouted. "How do you know?!" _  
_

Tom was nearly screaming with laughter, and the other four couldn't help but laugh along with him.

"You can't even," he took a deep breath, trying to calm his laughter, "you've never even- oh man!"

"You're a _virgin_?" Natalie accused, eyes wide in disbelief.

"I'm only 15!" 

"I-" she started laughing, "I had no idea!"

Though Natalie and Tom's laughter was loud, he could still hear Georg mutter, "You owe me 5 bucks," to Gustav, and he frowned, crossing his arms.

He already hated this place.

* * *

"Tom?"

The blond teen shifted, turning to face Bill, and even in the dark, the raven haired boy's eyes shined.

"Yeah?"

"Do you think we're safe here?"

Tom hummed. "Safer than if we weren't here."

Bill nodded, eyes falling closed. "Ok."

After a short pause, Tom spoke up. "Bill?"

"Hm?"

Tom shuffled closer, their bare chests only inches apart. He slung an arm around Bill's waist and pulled the flustered boy closer, nuzzling into his neck.

"Are we boyfriends?"

Bill giggled quietly, relaxing into the embrace. "I don't know."

"Ok."

He felt Tom smile into his neck.

"Hey, Tom?

"Yeah?"

"If we were boyfriends...what would we do?"

Tom pulled away slightly to look at him, though he couldn't see much.

"I mean," Bill added quickly, "because you've had girlfriends before and stuff..." 

Tom struggled to hold in his laughter. Embarrassed Bill was funny.

"Well," he began, "we would hold hands and kiss and stuff."

"Really?" A breathless chuckle escaped the brunet as Tom squeezed him. "We already do that."

Tom hummed, pressing his lips to the sensitive skin behind Bill's ear. "We would do more stuff, too..." he mumbled, and the blushing boy shivered slightly. 

Bill swallowed hard when the younger boy drew back again, just enough to look into his eyes, their faces unbearably close.

Tom stared down at his lips, tugging at his lip ring, and Bill watched, entranced, his own lips parting. A few torturous moments passed before their lips met tenderly, and Bill's arms tightened around Tom's neck. He felt butterflies fluttering around in his stomach and his heart hammered against his chest as he eagerly followed the more experienced teen's lead, allowing his fervent, skilled tongue into his mouth without a second thought.

It took Bill a minute to get the hang of it, and Tom would have laughed at how clumsy it was if it wasn't so damn endearing. Usually with girls, if they were sloppy it immediately turned him off; but with Bill, it made that fire in his stomach grow.

Once Bill had a pretty good understanding of what to do, he didn't waste time pressuring them into building up speed as hands eagerly roamed over feverish flesh. Bill clutched to the other's neck, and Tom's hand found the small of his back as they both groaned, writhing. He pressed them close and a sharp intake of breath was heard from both of them as their groins connected. Heat flooded Bill and he deliberately moved against Tom, reveling in the pleasurable friction.

Tom released his lips and kissed his neck, nipping wetly at the soft skin, and Bill couldn't help letting out a tiny moan when a particularly sensitive spot was grazed by Tom's hot tongue. He grasped Tom's hair, egging him on, and Tom happily continued his exploration of Bill's delicate, sultry skin; licking, biting, kissing -- Bill was in heaven. He writhed and whined and gasped and moaned beneath his pleasurer, head tilting back, spine arching deliciously as Tom's skillful lips went to the base of his throat.  

"Tom..." he murmured, and the blond glanced up at him, grinning into his flush skin at the sight of him: head inclined, eyes shut, lips parted -- Tom had always thought virgins were fun. Tom inched his way back up Bill's neck until he was playfully nibbling Bill's jaw. His hand came up to rest on the other side of the boy's face, stroking the baby-soft skin affectionately as he sat up, slotting their lips together again.

Bill was more eager then, he wanted -- no, _needed_  -- more, and he didn't even know why or what he was craving. Since his brain was clueless, he let his body take the lead, and he arched up into the slightly smaller teen's chest, shoving his tongue into his mouth, licking with haste. His legs fell open on their own accord, almost instinctively, and Tom quickly moved between the skinny extremities, leaning down with his forearms rested against the pillow on each side of Bill's head. The kiss grew hungrier without Tom's consent, Bill's mouth was hot and eager against his, and not only was he unbelievably turned on, but he was also extremely overwhelmed.

"Woah," he breathed, pulling away, and Bill's mouth latched onto his neck. He let out a slightly shaky breath as he tried to regain his composure, lovingly stroking Bill's hair. Bill keened, unintentionally grinding up into Tom, and the younger boy groaned, nearly toppling over. "Woah," he wheezed, smiling amusedly as he tugged on Bill's hair, gaining the boy's attention. "Bill..." he chuckled breathlessly, "you're moving so fast, baby."

Bill gazed up at him with glassy, yet hungry eyes, and he chuckled again, leaning down so their faces were inches apart. Bill tilted his head up, silently begging for a kiss, but Tom ignored it, smirking. "You don't need to move so fast, I'm not going anywhere," he said, and with one last nod from Bill, they were back at it.

Bill obviously didn't care much for Tom's need to take it slow, as he immediately went back to his fast pace, arching into Tom once again. It was a battle of paces -- Tom trying desperately to slacken it, and Bill fighting to hasten it. After a few minutes, Bill grew tired of the battle and decided to take things a bit further. His hand skated down to his hip and he hesitantly inched around the front of Tom's boxers. Just when he felt the delicious hardness under his fingertips, Tom flinched away.

He cleared his throat, "um," and panted, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Sorry," Bill breathed, chest rising and falling harshly. "I, um..."

Tom shook his head, falling onto the bed by Bill's side. "It's ok."

They both lay upon the bed, panting and mortifyingly embarrassed.

Bill groaned and rolled onto his stomach, cramming his face into the pillow. Just the thought of what just happened made him wince with humiliation, and he groaned louder, the sound muffled by the pillow. He felt a hand weave comfortingly through his hair, but that only made his shame increase.

He needed to be _comforted?!_ How fucking embarrassing...

"It's ok," Tom repeated, and he turned his head to peek a look at him. "We just...I just...I don't want you to feel like you have too move fast-"

"I don't."

"-because you think that's what I want. I want _you_ to want it-"

"I do."

Tom sighed, removing his hand from Bill's hair to run it through his own in frustration. "You don't, Bill."

"I _do_ -"

"You _don't!_ " Tom urged, voice raising. "You don't even know what you're asking for!"

"I'm asking for _you!_ "

"You have no idea what that means," Tom sighed. "Once you lose your virginity, you don't get it back. That's it. You should just keep it-"

"I don't want it."

"Listen to me!" Tom groaned, massaging his temples. This was entirely new to him -- caring about someone's _purity_ , and it was extremely frustrating. "Just keep it for now until you're ready. Until _I_ think you're ready."

There was a brief silence before Bill spoke up. "How long is that going to take?" His words were muffled, but Tom heard them anyway, and he chuckled.

"Not long."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiii we hope you enjoyed the chapter! Please, feel free to comment your opinions and criticism! And don't forget to leave kudos if you liked it!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiii guys, we are so so sorry for the long wait but we really hope you enjoy this chapter!

                      

The next few days were filled with tedious tasks no one seemed to want to do -- including them. They cleaned the entire dining area, swept and mopped the lobby and  _all_ of the hallways, they even went on _garbage duty_. Bill hated that the most; his nails were in such a pitiful state -- at least three of them had broken, and the polish was so chipped it was hardly even there anymore. Despite that, Bill tried to stay positive, so sure that all their hard work would pay off eventually, but Tom was not convinced. He grumpily agreed to the endless string of banal work, only thanks to Bill's persistent banter. However, it didn't stop him from making snide and insolent remarks when no one was around.

It was day three and they had just finished stocking the shelves in the backroom with the (most likely stolen) supplies when Georg arrived, wearing a mischievous smirk, to inform them that it was dinnertime.

"Finally," Tom huffed. He winced as he straightened, rubbing his back.

"Old man," Bill smirked and just barely avoided a smack to the head. "C'mon, I'll give you a massage tonight if you behave."

Tom snorted as he followed the older teen out to the lobby. 

As they neared the dining room, the soft music they heard in the backroom began to grow louder, and they glanced at each other in confusion. Together, they pushed both doors open and stared in awe at the sight. Candles were scattered on all the tables and the bar, each of them in a colored candle holder, bathing the room in a rainbow of dim, flickering lights. A bulky stereo blared out rap from the center of the room and everyone's animated chatter and laughter permeated the convivial atmosphere.

"Wow," Bill said, eyes flitting from familiar faces, to not so familiar faces, before glancing back at the dread headed teen next to him. "What's the occasion?"

Tom only shrugged in response, scanning the room. His gaze landed on Georg sitting in a booth with Natalie and Gustav on either side of him, and the blonde girl waved them over, a large grin on her face. Bill followed his eyes and when he noticed the group, he immediately broke out into a grin, bouncing excitedly on the balls of his feet. 

"Let's go!" he said, grabbing the smaller boy by his arm, nearly dragging him over to the four older teens. 

"It's about time," the girl said loudly, slurring slightly as she took another swig from her red Solo cup. "Where have you been?!"

"We were just-"

"Shhh," she took another long gulp before slamming the empty plastic down onto the wooden table. "Doesn't matter! You're here now!"

Bill opened his mouth to respond, but the only thing that left him was a weird startled noise as a hand landed harshly on his shoulder. He spun around to come face to chest with a smirking Bushido, and he sighed in relief.

"Enjoying your party, boys?" he asked, squeezing Bill's shoulder.

"This is for us?" Tom asked, using a finger to flick the older man's hand off his friend's shoulder, and Bushido laughed.

"Yup," he said, looking around, an amused smile on his face. "This is your little _initiation party_."

"Initiation?" Bill wondered, eyebrows furrowing as he glanced to Tom, the blond boy looking equally confused.

"You're officially in the gang you idiot!" Natalie shouted and Georg laughed, wrapping an arm around her shoulder.

"She's had a bit to drink-"

"Wait, what?" Tom cut him off. " _Alcohol?_ We're drinking the booze?"

"Um,  _duh_ ," Natalie slurred, throwing her arms up. "What's a party without _liquor!_ Plus there are like _fifty_  bottles of tequila."

Tom grinned, giving Bill a quick wink before stalking toward the bar and the black haired boy rolled his eyes, taking a seat next to the somewhat tipsy girl.

"Have you ever even _had_ a drink before?" she asked, giggling as she pinched his cheek harshly.

" _Yes_ ," he hissed in response, slapping her hand away from his blushing cheek. "Once or twice."

"Once," Tom said, walking back over with five shot glasses and a bottle. "Unless he goes out and gets drunk without me." He lined the glasses up on the table and filled each one to the brim with the amber liquid.

"Maybe I do." Bill grumbled, but he was ignored.

"Cheers." He smiled mischievously at Bill and clinked their glasses together. The five teens downed their drinks and Tom chuckled when Bill had a coughing fit, one hand clutching at his throat and the other gripping the edge of the table. He slid in next to him and put an arm around his shoulders, swaying him playfully. "You'll get used to it."

Bill glared at him, but it lost all its menace as he blinked away his tears, sheepishly averting his eyes, and it only made Tom's smile widen. This was going to be a fun night.

* * *

Tom was practically dying of laughter. He wiped at the corners of his eyes as he doubled over once more. Bill had climbed up onto a table, and was now dancing clumsily and obnoxiously singing along to the current song booming through the brewery. He undulated and staggered on the unstable surface and too many times Tom thought he was about to slip and fall or spill his drink all over the place and himself.

"Whoo, go Bill!" Natalie cheered, raising her cup as she, too, danced to the music. Bill cheered back something incoherent, something along the lines of "join me!" and Natalie did just that, handing her cup to Tom before awkwardly getting onto the table.

Tom chuckled as he watched the two uncoordinated drunks dance together, shouting and screaming random excited sounding phrases and noises. 

"Yeah!" Georg shouted from his spot beside Tom, watching as Natalie began grinding on Bill. "If only I had some ones..."

"Good luck dating him," Gustav said, patting Tom on the back while shaking his head. "He's a handful."

"We're not dating-!"

"Bill, watch out!"

There was a startled shout and the sound of shattering glass before the tall boy was falling off the table and into Tom's chest. The blond boy quickly wrapped his arms around Bill's middle, keeping the inebriated boy from toppling to the ground.

"Woah," Bill muttered, before looking over the shattered bottle of Vodka on the ground. "Oops. Did I do that?"

Tom chuckled, letting him go. "Yeah," he brushed Bill's hair out of his face. "Are you ok?"

"Fine," he giggled, wrapping an arm around Tom's neck, watching Natalie dance alone. "I like dancing."

"Dance with me," Tom said, his pierced lips tugging up into an amused smirk. He placed his hands on the boy's slender hips, and Bill giggled nervously, nodding as he wrapped his other arm around Tom's neck. They leisurely swayed together for a few minutes, Tom's hands guiding Bill's hips back and forth. 

"Hey," came a deep voice from behind, paired with a light tap to the shoulder, but Tom waved it off.

"Can't you see I'm busy?"

The finger dug into his shoulder harshly and he jumped, turning to glare at the tall, beefy man's chest. His head tilted up to meet impatient eyes, and his jaw dropped.

"Oh..."

The sight of the large man glaring down at them was enough to sober Bill up almost instantly.

"Is there a problem?" came another familiar voice, and the two boys looked over to see Bushido approaching them, dogged by four more guys, each larger than the last.

"No, sir." 

"Anis!" Natalie shouted from the table before jumping down, staggering her way over to the man.

Bill giggled lowly. "Anus..." 

Maybe he wasn't _completely_ sober.

The man gave him a strange look before averting his gaze to the blonde girl, grabbing her waist with a smirk, steadying her. "Are you sure you've had enough?"

"Shush," she dismissed, waving and taking another gulp. "It's time already?"

Bushido only nodded, and her face fell immediately. 

"Wait, time for what?" Bill asked, but the only answer he got was a "good luck, boys" from Natalie before Bushido motioned for them to follow him.

They nervously trailed behind the six men through the dark lobby and up the stairwell, sharing worried glances. When they passed the second floor, the boys' eyebrows furrowed -- they'd never been to the top floor before. When they finally reached the very top of the stairs, the sound of jingling keys resounded in the tense silence before the door was pushed open and they were lead through it. They traveled down the long, dark hallway of the top floor, each boy glancing into the door-less rooms on each side; they were all completely empty.

They finally came to the last door on the right, and the five men created a barrier to block the room from view, and Bushido stood in front of them, arms crossed. 

"Every good thing has a bad side," he said, staring the boys down. "Being in this gang is the best -- the _only_ way to survive in these streets; but like I said, there's a bad side,"

Bushido nodded to the men, and they nodded back before dispersing. The two boys gazed into the room, completely bare, spare the wooden table in the center.

"You have three choices: go back to wherever you came from, attempt to live on the streets alone, or endure the hazing and be protected by the gang."

Tom took the first step across the threshold, and Bill followed suit, approaching the table hesitantly. 

Laying upon the table was a small plastic baggy filled with a suspicious white substance, a wooden paddle, and a large black dildo. 

"What's this fo-"

"No questions," Bushido interrupted, holding up a hand to silence the raven haired boy. "Make your choice."

Tom glanced from Bill's absolutely terrified expression to the table, and then back again. "What do you want to do?"

"Whatever you want to do." Bill said, his expression firm as he reached out to grab the blond's hand. Tom squeezed it reassuringly before looking back to Bushido.

"We'll stay."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE don't forget to comment and leave kudos!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry again for the delay... ^^; Hope you enjoy!

                                                                 

 

The older male nodded, walking over to the table, the men trailing behind him. "Very good," he said, hand skimming across the wood. "Let's play a game, hm?"

The two boys scowled as the man lifted the dildo, pointing it in the general direction of the two, wiggling it with each word. "Would you rather," he pointed to the baggy, "do a line a of cocaine?" He brandished the dildo, smirking, "or fuck yourself with this big ol' thing?"

There was a brief silence before Bill spoke up. "Definitely the dildo," he murmured, blushing and averting his eyes.

"Really?" Tom asked, bewildered. "That thing could never fit in you."

Bill shrugged. "Well, I would never do cocaine."

"It's settled then!" Bushido exclaimed, pointing the dildo at the tallest teen. "Pants off!"

" _What?_ "

"You made your decision, now take your pants off." He nodded toward Tom, "as for you, you can join Laurenz while he ge-"

"No, no, no," Tom objected, shaking his head. "That thing is  _not_ -"

"You have no choice!" Bushido shouted, making both boys flinch. "Now get your skinny ass over here!"

With one last worried glance towards the petrified boy, Tom rounded the table, glaring at Bushido as he went.

The older male didn't notice, his gaze was locked with Bill, and a fierce smirk played on his face as he stepped closer.

"Alright Billie," he said, smacking the dildo against the palm of his hand. "Pants off."

"D-do I really have to?" Bill stuttered, cheeks heating up. "I-I'll do anything else, just..." He eyed the large dildo warily, cringing internally. There was no way...

Bushido clicked his tongue and shook his head. "Sorry Billie."

The boy's heart dropped, but he nodded anyway, looking down at his jeans. He hesitated, embarrassed tears welling up in his eyes, but eventually reached down and popped the button. He made a small distressed noise once the zipper was all the way down, and he looked up to see everyone's eyes were on him. He heaved out a shaky breath as he pulled the pants down his skinny legs before kicking them off, standing awkwardly in his black briefs.

"Very nice," Bushido said, earning a threatening glare to the back of his head. "Underwear, too."

"Can I at least turn around?" He kept his gaze locked on the cement ground, stripped of carpet.

"Sure."

The skinny boy reluctantly turned to face the wall, thumbs hooking in the elastic of his briefs, slowly pulling them down.

He held out his hand, eyes squeezed shut, and Bushido obligingly presented the ridged, black rod. He bent over as he placed the head to his unprepared hole, and with the other hand, he braced himself against the wall, his breathing quickening in anticipation and embarrassment.  _Just do it_ , he told himself over and over again, but his hand decidedly was not listening to his brain. He huffed and leaned his forehead on the wall. "I... I don't know if..."

"Fine, I'll do it," Bushido said and he smirked wickedly.

"No fucking way!" Tom bristled, stepping forward.

Bushido lifted a brow, and there was a beat of silence before he crossed his buff arms. "How 'bout you do it?"

Both boys froze, breath hitching, and Bushido stared smugly at Tom, a challenging look in his eyes.

He deliberated and stole a glance at his half-naked friend, and Bill gazed back fearfully.

A pregnant moment passed before Bill weakly shrugged a shoulder, pursing his lips and holding out the imposing dildo to Tom. His hands shook as he approached Bill, and he reluctantly re-positioned the rugged shaft between his ass cheeks. He placed his other hand on his hip, a hopefully reassuring gesture, and gently nudged the tip in. He barely moved an inch when Bill hissed, and he automatically paused, staring worriedly at the back of the brunet's head.

"It's not going to fit," he said, glaring at the man.

"Make it fit."

Tom retracted the dildo and all but slammed it down onto the rickety table, pinning Bushido with a hard look.

"Like hell I will." Tom warned in a low and threatening tone.

"Who the fuck do you think you are, kid?" He scoffed and leered derisively.

"Tom," Bill said in a small, shaky voice. "Just do it."

" _No,_ " he nearly shouted. "There's no fucking way I'm doing that! He can go to hell! It's  _not happening._ "

There was a short, tense pause before, suddenly, Bushido began to chuckle, raising his hands in sarcastic defense. "Fine." 

The dread-head was momentarily dumbstruck. "Fine...?"

"Yes,  _fine_. He doesn't have to do it," he paused, "just know this won't go without consequence." Bill hesitated, waiting for Bushido to laugh and say it was a joke -- but that never came. He slowly tugged his pants and underwear back up, zipping and buttoning them as Bushido spoke. "Laurenz?" The man in question nodded and stepped back. Bushido waved toward the table, inciting Tom to come forth. He did, and he gazed unsurely before him.

"Go on." Bushido looked at him expectantly and Tom took a deep breath as he picked up the small transparent bag.

He poured the chalky powder onto the smooth surface, chopping it and thinning it out into a line with the credit card at disposal as best he could, mimicking what he'd seen in movies. He then picked up the little piece of paper, rolling it between shaky fingers. Licking his chapped lips, he caught Bill's distressed expression and looked back down, deciding to just get it over with. He bent over, placing his makeshift straw at the left extremity of the line. Taking one last deep breath, he plugged one nostril and inhaled through the other, chasing the line with the straw.

As soon as he finished he lifted his head up and propped his arms on the table, exhaling through his mouth before sniffing a few times. It burned a little, and there was a chemical taste in the back of his throat. Soon enough his face was going numb and he looked up at a concerned Bill -- he had a hand to his mouth and his brows were drawn up, eyes full of trepidation.

"It's okay, I'm fine," he reassured, absently and curiously poking his desensitized cheek.

"Well that's good to hear," Bushido said sarcastically before nodding to the men. "Get them over the table."

"What?! _What?!_ " Bill gasped as his arms were grabbed and yanked behind his back. He glanced at Tom to see the boy struggling to free himself from the same position. 

"Get _off!_ " the dread-head shouted as he was bent over the wooden table, a large hand securing his arms behind his back. 

"Pants down," Bushido said absentmindedly, grabbing the paddle from the table. He watched as the tall boy's pants were removed, humming in approval. 

"Cute little ass," he murmured, earning a snarl from the younger teen.

"Everyone gets one hit," he informed as he positioned himself next to Bill.

The pale boy gasped and jolted when the first one came. It wasn't so bad, he thought, he could deal with it. There was a short pause as the next man grabbed the paddle, and the second one came and he faltered. By the third one his butt started burning, and by the fourth he completely changed his mind; this was unbearable.

He sobbed quietly and screwed his eyes shut, feeling the tears pound behind his eyes as the paddle yet again whooshed through the air and sharply smacked his bare ass.

The last one was the worst one, and by then his skin felt like it was on fire.

"Next," the older man motioned to Tom, and Bill straightened, breath shuddering out and a lone tear streaking down his face.

The younger boy braced himself for the first blow, eyes shut. He clenched his teeth as he silently endured the relentless beating, body jumping with each hit.

"Get the branding iron," the tan man said, waving two of the other men off, and Bill whimpered.

"The _what?_ "

Bushido smirked, and grabbed the boy by his hair, pulling him upwards. "You thought that was it? Aw," he cooed, staring the boy in the eye for a moment before letting go of his tousled locks.

Then the men re-entered the room, bringing in the red, hot metal, an icy gel pack, and medical supplies. The two boys exchanged anguished looks and wrestled helplessly in the strong hold as one of the men approached them. He briefly wiped down Bill's shoulder with a piece of alcohol-soaked gauze and signaled for the other man. The blazing rod was passed to him and Bill started to beg. "No,  _no!_ Please, no! _Stop!_ "

Then it seared into his skin.

"Ffffffuck-  _shit!_ " He banged his head on the table and bit his lip so hard he almost drew blood; the pain was excruciating. How he'd thought the paddle was bad was beyond him, because it was _nothing_ compared to this undeserved and cruel torment.

After what felt like an eternity, the scorching metal was withdrawn, and his entire shoulder throbbed painfully.

The flick of a lighter reverberated through the tense silence and Bill lifted a heavy gaze to a malicious one. Bushido's cheeks hollowed as he deeply dragged on his cigarette, contemplating the brunet. He neared him and loomed over him menacingly. Bringing his cigarette closer, Bill scowled and recoiled.

He chuckled lowly. "Don't be like that, baby. The design needs to be finished." With that, he pressed the end of the cigarette into his raw flesh, and Bill hissed, holding back a string of insults. That was done twice before another one of his henchmen bandaged his mutilated arm. He clasped the ice pack over it as Tom was given the same treatment, and Bill watched harrowingly.

He caught a glimpse of the glowing injury before it was wrapped up; huh, a yin yang sign, he mused dully.

The soothing ice was removed, much to Bill's chagrin, and given to Tom instead.

A minute later, they were lugged up onto their feet and confronted by Bushido. He took one last drag of his cigarette before stubbing it out on the wall.

"Welcome to Sonny Black."


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's finally here! ^^;  
> Enjoy~

                                                               

 

Bill lay on the creaky bed, writhing in agony as a plaintive moan slipped from his pale lips.

They made him sleep in a different room than Tom; he guessed it was his punishment for not completing the first trial, which, thank God, they let slide. He probably would've had a hard time walking after a ride on that monstrous thing. They didn't even have any painkillers to take the edge off, he gloomily recalled, and his butt still hurt.

He couldn't deny he was a little bitter, but it was a small price to pay for a bed to sleep in, nourishment, a roof over their heads and, well...a life. They could never have made it alone on the stony, merciless streets of Berlin. It wasn't so bad though, the brand could have been something stupid like a...a bird, or something. Yin and yang, he ruminated, it had several different meanings and interpretations. Which one did the gang associate with?

He rolled onto his back, carefully avoiding any contact with his still incredibly sensitive shoulder, and grasped at the empty sheets next to him, wishing he could be with his treasured dread-head. He'd been such a chatterbox after the...line. He couldn't believe he did that. What if he got addicted? Did he even think about that? Or if it was bad coke? He could have died, just like that, to join a fucking gang. Life is too short to be fooling around like that and taking it for granted, they should make the best of it... Speaking of, Bill didn't understand why he was so adamant about taking things slow. Bill just...wanted him so bad, and the thought was constantly on his mind, nagging him incessantly. There was no harm in sex, if the necessary precautions were taken of course, so why-

Bill snapped his head toward the door as it swung open, slamming against the wall.

"Oh, sorry, Billie baby. Did I wake you?" Bushido strode in, a number of shadowy figures dogging his footsteps.

"What are... What are you doing?" he stuttered as the tall men approached him.

One of them reached out and grabbed Bill by the ankle, dragging him to the edge of the mattress, and flipped him onto his stomach, earning a startled shout from the skinny boy. Another man joined him and they each grabbed a wrist, firmly pinning them down, and Bill futilely wrenched his arms. He twisted his head this way and that, frantically trying to see what was happening behind him. Suddenly his pants were yanked down and he was exposed for the second time that day, and his heart pounded furiously in his chest. Were they going to forcibly fuck him with the dildo? Oh God.

He heard a muted click and something tiny and wet skated across his bare skin, and he realized it was a marker. "What the fuck?!" he shouted in annoyance.

The teen groaned and buried his flushed face in the comforter as they snickered and scribbled on him, one of them even giving him a tap on the ass, causing him to begin struggling again. The next guy must have found it so amusing that he'd felt the need to reproduce the irritatingly immature gesture, albeit substantially rougher. The rest of them joined in, and Bill was getting spanked left and right, _hard_ , as they chuckled sadistically at his pained cries, like a bunch of lousy bullies. Not only was his butt still sore, so was his shoulder, and they were decidedly  _not_  handling his arms with tenderness and care...and his ass neither for that matter.

A shaky, thankful breath fell from his lips as the last smack was delivered, going limp in the men's grasp.

There was a brief pause and he was starting to think -- to _pray_ \-- that they were done with him. His praying was ineffective, though, because only moments later he felt something hard and thin penetrate him roughly. A strangled cry left his throat and he yanked his arms away in vain. Sweat broke out on his forehead and he swallowed hard, squeezing his eyes shut as the room filled with barbarous laughter.

"Sleep well, angel."

As they left, the accursed pen popped out of his asshole, clattering to the floor. Thoroughly humiliated, he curled up on his bed, fighting back tears.

* * *

To say he was tired would be an understatement -- he was exhausted.

Tom tossed and turned all night, his mind on overdrive; he just couldn't turn it off. He thought about everything possible that night, he was sure. From his parents and how they were doing (if they missed him -- they probably didn't), to school and his classmates (even the assholes), to Bill -- Tom wondered how he was sleeping, _if he was sleeping at all,_  he thought fondly, reminiscing about the many times Bill had showed up at his window in the middle of the night, unable to sleep.

As he lay on the lumpy mattress, staring at the door, he hoped Bill would suddenly walk in and ask (timidly, as always) if he could stay. Tom would invite him into the bed with a "sure" and a smile that would make Bill's cheeks tinge pink. He'd press close, and hold him, of course -- he could never keep his hands off the older boy. He might've even kissed him, maybe, if Bill wanted him to. Kissed him until the sun rose, orange shadows playing on his pale face, casting shapes on his rosy cheeks.

But that never happened. 

Yet, despite his lack of sleep, heavy limbs and tired eyes, he managed to drag himself up to Bill's temporary room the second light began to seep into the decrepit building.

He brought his fist against the door twice, softly, but he got no response. With a furrow of his eyebrows he knocked again, harder this time. 

No response.

He rolled his eyes --  _Bill is such a heavy sleeper --_  before twisting the knob and letting himself in. The sun glared through the window due to the lack of drapery and he could clearly see the immobile lump under the sheets on the small bed. He smiled, walking closer.

"Bill," he said softly. "Bill, get up."

_sniff_

Tom frowned. "Bill," he said louder, forcefully. " _Bill_."

"Go away," the shapeless form croaked before a familiar skinny arm emerged, swatting weakly in his direction. 

Tom sighed, reaching for the covers. "Bill, come on-"

"No!" the older boy cried as the blanket was suddenly ripped away, revealing his exposed, abused bottom.

Tom gawked, appalled at the sight before him. He gingerly placed his hand on the desecrated skin, littered with disgusting, demeaning phrases and Bill watched his expression change from alarm and shock to unadulterated rage.

"Who did this?!"

Bill's eyes went wide in dread, foreboding a massacre, and fumbled with his words.

"WHO?!" The brunet jumped at the outburst, cringing.

"B-Bushido," he confessed and Tom immediately whipped around, storming out of the room.

Bill scrambled out of bed and tripped into his pants, stumbling after the enraged blond.

"Wait! Where are you going?!" he yelled, but Tom was unwavering, racing down the concrete steps, deafened by the blood boiling and pounding in his ears.

"Tom!" Bill called out again as the younger teen burst through the doors to the brewery. He zeroed in on the older man, but he was facing away from them, artlessly exchanging with a couple of bulky men.

"Hey,  _asshole!_ " Tom bellowed as he stalked forward.

When Bushido started to turn around, Tom rushed forward and, just as their eyes met, his fist collided powerfully with the man's cheek. Bushido's head snapped sideways and his body lurched to the left from the force of the blow.

" _Fuck_ , Tom!" Bill screeched, grasping at the back of his head.

The silence that ensued was deafening.

All eyes were on the pair, some apprehensive, others mildly curious, and Bushido was rubbing his stubbly cheek, a bitter expression on his face.

"Holy shit."

"You better start running."

"Nice knowin' you, kid."

There was a short pause before a low chuckle resounded in the large room. Tom furrowed his eyebrows, fists tightening at his sides.

"What are you laughing at?" he demanded. "You think this shit is funny?!"

Anis finally looked up, amusement shining in his keen eyes. Rubbing his reddening jaw, he eyed the boy challengingly. "Yeah."

With a growl and a "I'm gonna fucking kill you," Tom charged forward again, only to be suddenly restrained. Grunting and struggling against the brawny men, he glared fiercely at the chuckling man.

"Damn, you've got a good arm, kid," he said, cupping his sore jaw.

Taking a step forward, he stood brazenly in front of the fuming blond and gripped the hem of his shirt.

"But do that again, and I'll kill you," he warned with a chilling grin.

Bill sighed, immensely relieved they weren't going to have their asses handed to them and get kicked out.

As breakfast was being served, the atmosphere mitigated and the tension slowly lifted, leaving laughter and blithe chatter in its wake.

A hard pat on the shoulder startled the blond out of his thoughts.

"You sure got balls, man!" Andreas avidly jostled Tom with a wide grin, and he couldn't help but feel a bit smug.

"Yeah, I-"

"You crazy motherfucker! I can't believe you did that!" The long-haired brunet gave him a playful jab on the shoulder, which Tom returned with a chuckle. "I came down as soon as I heard. I wish I could have seen the boss get dominated by a kid," he said furtively, smirking.

"It was pretty hardcore," the bleach blond confirmed, feigning gravity. "I wouldn't be surprised if he fissured his jawbone... And his ego probably took a big hit too. I mean, this little shit just comes and smacks him around like it's nothing," he shook his head grimly, crossing his arms. "He might need therapy after this." His lips stretched into a grin, no longer able to retain his humorless front, and they all burst out laughing, clapping and pushing at each other facetiously.

"On a serious note though," he sobered substantially, "be careful. I don't know what changed this time but you're very lucky he didn't beat the shit out of you right off the bat...pun intended."

Bill cringed and Tom smiled sheepishly, running a hand through his unkempt hair.

"I did what I had to do," he deadpanned, and the older teen gazed at him thoughtfully.

One thing he couldn't reproach Tom for was not being there. He had always been by his side,  _always_ , in good times and bad. He never left him, never let him down, and Bill was so grateful of that. What he'd do without him, he didn't know.

They continued eating and all throughout breakfast Tom had been showered with praise and inquiry, barely letting up enough for him to finish his plate. Bill was unpleasantly surprised when a group of under-dressed girls made their way over, fawning over the dread-head and just...kissing his ass. He grimaced.

"Hey, we saw you pull out the big guns earlier," a tall brunette practically purred, running her petite hand up his arm as she smiled seductively. "Mind showing us again?"

"Wha- ...are you flirting with me?" Tom stuttered, staring at her with wide eyes. She had to be at least be 20!

"No shit," Bill muttered, moving the food in his plate around with his fork.

"Oh, don't be jealous, cutie," a blonde pompously advised with a spiteful smile. "You can watch."

Bill scoffed and rolled his eyes, but didn't respond. He continued to watch Tom bask in the abundant attention, the frown never leaving his features.

Honestly, he looked better than all of them. He didn't get why Tom was so infatuated with them; the only thing they had on him was their tits. And their long hair. And their vaginas. _  
_

Whatever, they were a whole other gender, there was no comparison. But still, he had to wonder. Was he not enough for Tom? He knew he'd previously had multiple heterosexual encounters, and they'd never had a conversation about sexuality, but he couldn't be completely straight since he was...with Bill. Was he with Bill? Were they together? They hadn't said it officially but Bill liked to think they were, despite the ambiguity.

Either way he couldn't help but feel the tiniest bit inadequate.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things have been pretty hectic unfortunately, thus the long wait... We're really sorry. :( Hopefully we can get the next chapter done quicker... Forgive us? ^^;
> 
> **EDIT: If you want this story to be continued or are a beta please take a look at[this](http://hittingsasukeisfunx3.deviantart.com/journal/halp-562206095).**

 

"So wait, that's  _all_  I have to do?"

Bushido smirked at the blond teen and leaned back in his chair. "That's all. Not too hard, right?"

Tom crossed his arms, a smirk of his own spreading across his face. "This is gonna be too easy."

"Alright," Bushido clapped his hands together. "If there are no further questions, you're dismissed."

Tom was the first one out of the room, swaggering across the lobby with confidence. Ever since the reckless stunt he pulled earlier that morning, all the praise had really boosted his ego. As if that was needed.

A group of girls waited for him by the stairwell, giggling as he approached.

"Ladies," he acknowledged with a nod, holding the large door open for them.

"You're so sweet, Tom." A bubbly blonde giggled as she made her way up the stairs.

"Yeah, it was really cool what you did this morning," a sultry redhead purred, turning to glance at him with her smoldering green eyes. "Sticking up for your wimpy friend like that."[  
](http://www.macmillandictionary.com/us/search/american/direct/?q=auburn)

All the girls voiced their approval, and he frowned as they reached the top. "He's not wimpy."

"No?" a brunette asked as she pushed the door open, and all the girls filed out. "Why didn't he stick up for himself then?"

Tom just shrugged in response. He honestly didn't have an answer.

"Whatever," the blonde said, grabbing onto his arm. "It doesn't matter. Can we walk with you to your room?"

Before he could say no, the redhead was grabbing onto his other arm, smiling up at him expectantly. With a sigh and a nod of his head, they made their way down the hall in silence, apart from the girls' giddy giggling.

The door was wide open when they finally reached the room, and Bill was sitting cross legged on the bed, scribbling in a notebook. A loud sigh caused him to look up.

"I guess we won't be having any fun, huh?" The blonde pouted, letting go of the confused boy's arm.

"Maybe next time," the redhead said with a smirk before the trio turned to make their way back down the hallway.

Tom watched as they went, a perplexed frown on his face. By fun, did she mean...?

"Tom," Bill's voice broke him out of his trance, and he turned to look at the scowling boy. "Close the door."

"Uhh..." The older teen did as he was told, standing awkwardly in the middle of the room. "Is everything-"

"We need to talk."

"We need to...talk," Tom said slowly, earning a nod from Bill. "About..?" He apprehensively made his way towards the bed. "What did I do? Honestly, those girls-"

"Are you gay?"

Tom's eyebrows shot up to his hairline.

"I-I mean... Um," Bill sighed and ran a hand through his hair. This was not going the way it went in his head. "Do you like...guys...at all? I mean, you never want to go any further than kissing, and you know the  _girls_ , and so I was just thinking maybe you-"

"Bill," the blond deadpanned, trying desperately to hide the amusement in his voice.

"Yeah?" Bill asked feebly, expecting the worst.

"You're so stupid."

"What?" The older teen frowned as Tom sat down beside him.

"You're stupid," Tom reiterated, smiling. "Of course I'm not gay!"

His frown deepened.

"But I still kissed you, right? That means something."

"Yeah," Bill mumbled. "You're right."

Tom rolled his eyes. "I know this is your first attempt at a relationship, but you can't possibly be that slow!"

"Dick," Bill laughed, shoving Tom playfully, and the blond laughed too. "I'm not slow, I was just asking."

"Yeah, yeah," Tom muttered, placing his index finger under Bill's chin, tipping the older boy's head back before pressing a short, chaste kiss to his pouty lips. Bill hummed appreciatively, puckering his lips for another and Tom instantly complied; he didn't need to be asked twice. Bill's lips were soft and eager beneath his, and he found himself addicted to them.

He leaned back, pulling Tom down with him, and the younger teen hovered over him as their mouths slowly melded together. Tom brushed his thumb over Bill's sharp cheekbone as he deepened the kiss, tongue darting out to meet Bill's own, and the heat of arousal slowly stirred in the pit of his stomach.

Bill on the other hand had trouble staying still, already writhing under the titillating ministrations, barely able to hold back. His hands roamed zealously from broad shoulders down toned arms, then to his back, and he could feel the muscle twitch and shudder deliciously under his fingertips.

"Tom," he murmured, turning his head away. "We should stop now or else I-"

"Or else what, Bill?" Tom mumbled into the older teen's neck in between kisses. "You'll get hard?"

Bill groaned and tried to push Tom away in embarrassment, but the blond simply pinned his thin wrists above his head with a single hand, the other moving to lie teasingly on the warm flesh of Bill's side where his shirt had ridden up.

"You already are," Tom smirked, an eyebrow quirking upwards. "Aren't you?"

"Fuck, Tom," he whined, but before he could protest further, Tom caught his lips with his own.

As his grip slackened, Bill captured his lower lip between his teeth, tugging on it teasingly in retribution. He gasped when Tom kissed him hard in return, sparking an electrifying heat that shot through his entire body. He clawed at his back and his fingers impulsively roamed over the hem of his shirt, grazing naked flesh. His skin was so soft and warm, it made him burn to find out what other, more forbidden places felt like.

Traveling further down, he slipped his hands into the back pockets of his jeans and desperately urged him forward. He groaned when Tom complied, and squirmed under him as he ground their hips together in torturously slow circles.

Tom released his lips and latched onto his neck instead, and pleasure swelled hotly inside Bill, breath catching in his throat. How was he so frustratingly _good_ at this?

Bill wound his legs around the younger teen, a silent plea for more, cursing the barrier of clothing.

The torment was too much, he just couldn't handle it, it was driving him crazy with desire. He needed more, more achingly pleasurable touches, more _Tom_.

He tentatively let a hand stray to the front of the younger's jeans, letting it rest there for a moment, uncertain. It took all of his willpower to keep it there, but when Tom made no attempt to stop him, Bill grew bolder and palmed his clothed erection, reveling in the feeling of the hardness straining against his hand.

Tom pulled away breathlessly, and Bill began to retract his hand. "Sorry," he muttered in disappointment. "I-"

"It's fine," Tom rasped, biting back a smile as he gazed heatedly at the younger boy's disheveled appearance, all ruffled hair and rosy cheeks. "Just catching my breath."

Bill didn't even get the chance to reply before Tom's lips were back on his, tongues melding together once more.

Suddenly, there was sweet pressure on his own groin as Tom rubbed his aching length through his boxers, and he almost forgot how to breath.

"Oh, Tom..." He gasped and rocked his hips against the younger teen's hand as an overwhelming heat engulfed him.

Tom watched Bill as he bit his lower lip, trying but failing to keep in the small moans and whimpers that liberally slid from his throat, and his cock twitched at the sight.

He couldn't deny wanting the brunet...but he promised himself he wouldn't go any further than this. He wouldn't allow himself to take advantage of him like that, it was wrong, he couldn't possibly. Bill was too good, too pure; he could never corrupt him like that. He deserved better.

He stared down at Bill's flushed face, features drawn in undisguised pleasure, and bit his own lip.

At that moment though, he just couldn't help himself. They both needed this, and they needed it _now_.

He nipped at the skin just underneath his earlobe and Bill felt a tremor run down his spine.

"Tom, please..." he breathlessly moaned out.

It sent a jolt of pleasure straight to his groin every time he said his name like that, in that sultry, wanton tone. He could already imagine what he'd be like when he fucked him -- pliant and open under him, shamelessly begging for more of his cock while he rammed his sweet hole... Fuck, he couldn't wait.

He really _couldn't_ wait, he thought desperately. He was already on the edge; his dick was slick with precum in his pants and the friction felt unbelievably good. And with Bill chanting his name like that...well, he wasn't sure he could control himself.

"Oh, baby..." he groaned, shuddering as his cock throbbed almost painfully, straining against the dampened material of his boxers.

He got up on his knees and thrust harder against the brunet, and Bill met each thrust evenly, never letting up the constant stream of lascivious pleading that drove Tom crazy with desire.

Bill gripped his hips, pulling him impossibly close, and ground up into him with a drawn out groan, eyes squeezed shut. His lids slid open half-mast and he panted as he gazed up at Tom with clear want in his eyes, hips still pulsing against him. He tilted his head back and Tom didn't waste a second in accepting the silent invitation. He sucked and lapped at the side of his neck, feeling his dick thicken with every whine that escaped the other teen's throat. He smoothed his hand up his bare stomach and his fingertips grazed the erect nub of his nipple, and Bill bucked at the small touch, gasping.

Tom almost hyperventilated. He was so incredibly turned on by the brunet's responsiveness. He loved it. He wanted to do things to him, unspeakable things.

 _Forbidden_ , a voice in his head chided; but he was too distracted by Bill's lewd keening to give it much thought.

The older teen's hand had found itself buried in unkempt blond locks, and he suddenly tugged at them sharply, urgently straining his hips up against Tom as intense waves of heat and pleasure overwhelmed his senses. His mouth stretched open in a silent cry and he pushed up weakly a few more times before collapsing back down onto the mattress in a mess of uncontrollable whimpers and spasms as the long-awaited orgasm continued to rack his body.

The sight of his best friend- no, his...his... He couldn't bring himself to say it.  _Bill_  -- so vulnerable yet unabashed under his gaze. Just shameless. Shamelessly cumming in his pants because of Tom. He made Bill cum, and hard, judging by the way he quivered still and looked at him through cloudy eyes.

One of Bill's hands abruptly tugged at his pants, and the other dipped into them, fisting his aching cock through his boxers as he stared back lustfully, seemingly turned on himself by pleasuring the blond -- and that was it for Tom.

Sweltering heat consumed him and he just managed to not fall over as he was completely overcome by the orgasm, the sheer intensity of it making his head swim and his limbs feel like jelly. His nails dug into the sheets and he mindlessly cursed and groaned as his hips bucked with each satisfying spurt of cum. It took every ounce of strength left not to collapse onto the brunet who was still milking his spent cock with slow, lazy strokes.

His arms finally gave out and he rested his forehead on the older teen's chest, softly panting against him.

When his racing pulse finally petered out, he swallowed hard and nuzzled Bill's rumpled shirt, letting out a content sigh as Bill pet his hair.

The raven-haired teen hadn't calmed down so much though. His heartbeat still thumped irregular and fast in his chest and his whole being buzzed pleasantly but excitedly in the aftermath of their little fun.

It had definitely been too little. Bill craved so much more.

He looked over at Tom. He'd flopped over next to him, his arms stretched out behind his head, and he was gazing dazedly at the ceiling.

Bill rolled onto his side and the other boy shortly followed. They stared into each other's eyes and Bill felt hot all over as they shuffled closer, fingers tangling between their chests. Tom let go of one of his hands and cupped his face instead, barely an inch away, and the embers of lust smoldered inside the brunet.

Their lips finally met in a deep kiss and the dwindling fire roared back to life, his heart fluttering delightfully. He inhaled sharply through his nose and clutched at the younger teen's wrist, hastily coiling his legs around him. The blond quietly chuckled.

He was unquestionably ready for round two...when Tom's next words completely thwarted him.

"Good night," he whispered before pulling the covers over them.

Goddammit.

Bill let out a breath he'd unknowingly been holding and parroted Tom's words, placing one last, reluctant kiss to his soft and regrettably welcoming lips.

Tom snuggled into the disgruntled teen and they both ultimately fell asleep -- at very different paces mind you.

* * *

"Hey, kid. Wake up."

"Huh...?" Tom's groggy voice seeped out from the pillow his face was buried in. He peeked an eye out and a bulky figure was in the doorway, looking fixedly at him.

"Mhm..." He turned over and clutched at his best friend who was still peacefully slumbering next to him.

"Kid, c'mon. We don't have all day."

With a grumble, he sat up, rubbing his eyes, and so did Bill, ultimately woken by the derangement.

The blond was slipping his jeans on when Bill was finally fully awake.

"What's going on?" he mumbled sleepily, scratching at his bare chest. "Where are you going?"

"On an assignment, Bill," Tom said. "I won't be gone long.

"Well... Can I come?"

The man snorted and Tom blinked at him, a smirk tugging at his lips.

"What for?" the tall man asked lightheartedly.

"Well, to help..."

"Ha! Sorry, kid, but I don't think so."

Bill's gaze dropped to his lap and he fidgeted with the soft folds of the comforter, his mood steadily decreasing with each passing second.

"Sorry, Bill," Tom said, placing a warm hand on the bitter teen's shoulder. "Maybe next time."

By the time they left he was but a leaden, grumpy mass on the bed.

It just wasn't fair that they didn't even give him a chance. Just _one_ chance to prove them wrong, to prove to them that he  _was_  useful. Of course he was! He knew how to do a lot of things; okay, so he couldn't fight...or shoplift...or...

A disgruntled noise slipped from the brunet's throat as he grudgingly rose, and before long his morning routine was under way.

He also couldn't help but be frustrated...sexually, that is. Last night was a step up from their previous times but...it still wasn't enough. He needed more and Tom was set on not giving it to him. But _why?_ He racked his brain for a possible justification, apart from 'preserving his innocence' -- he scoffed. It couldn't by any means be the actual reason, Tom had probably popped plenty of girls' cherries, he reflected sourly.

Vexed black-rimmed eyes glowered back at him in the mirror and he bit the inside of his cheek.

It was going to be a long day.

After getting dressed, he sluggishly made his way downstairs and settled down for breakfast. As he picked at his food, a lilting voice broke into his sullen bubble.

"Morning, Bill." Natalie greeted him with an affable smile which he couldn't quite match.

"Hey, Nat," Bill said, his gloomy tone causing her to furrow her brows.

"Everything okay?" she asked, genuinely concerned.

"Yeah, fine."

"Well... Anything on your schedule for this morning?" She changed the subject, disheartened by his lack of response.

"Um, nope..."

She grinned. "Mind helping out with the laundry then?"

"Sure thing." His tone was just oozing with enthusiasm.

"It's not so bad," she chuckled, giving him a considerate pat on the back. "I'll be in the kitchen, come find me when you're done eating."

With that he was again left to his dismal thoughts, and he tenebrously finished his meal.

* * *

"So after it's been soaking for a few minutes, you scrub it on the washboard and-"

Well, Tom did always get a boner whenever they fooled around, so that had to mean  _something_. Guys don't just get a hard on when they're making out with someone if they don't want  _more_. Right?

"-once you're done you wring them out and-"

Yeah, he knew for sure he wanted him -- hell, he didn't just want him, he...well, he  _loved_  him, at least that was what he wrote in his...suicide note.

He was dredging up some precarious memories.

If he felt how Bill felt when they were together...he must've had a will of iron to resist like he did. Bill definitely wasn't able to curb his desires, he had no idea how Tom did, but the question was _why_. There was clearly no good reason.

"-and make sure you-"

He just needed to find a way to make his resolution dwindle, just enough for him to coax Tom into the act... Though he was pretty damn stubborn.

Maybe he could tie him up...

"Bill?"

He slowly raised his head to an outstretched arm and a fist full of fabric, a distraught look in his eye.

Natalie nudged her hand forward, her expression torn between confusion and hilarity, waiting for some sort of acknowledgement.

"Sorry, I'm just distracted," he weakly admitted and finally accepted the bunch of materials. He started the process of cleaning them, dunking them in the soapy water, and felt Natalie's concerned gaze on him all the while.

He was treading water anyway, he might as well try and get some help. Maybe she had some advice.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Yeah, sure."

"What do you do if..." he trailed off and sighed. He rubbed a drab rag over the ridges of the washboard and went on, "if you want to have sex with someone but they don't think you're ready?"

"Is this for a friend or something?" the smirking blonde asked, eyebrows darting up her forehead.

"Huh?" Bill's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "No, it's for me..."

She gawked ironically at him, but when he just stared back dumbly she pursed her lips and shook her head, unimpressed yet amused by the brunet's naivety. "Well what have you tried?"

"Everything!" Bill exclaimed in frustration. "I've made it so obvious!"

Natalie's smirk grew wider. "Subtlety is key, honey," she said with a wink before making her way towards the door. "I'll be in room 263, bring those clothes up when you're done?" And with that, she was gone, leaving Bill alone and confused -- again.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey. I have important news. Yes, I, not we.  
> I, HittingSasukeIsFun, am now in charge of the story, alone. I didn't plan for this, and it's very saddening but...that's just the way the cookie crumbles.  
> I thought about it long and hard that's what she said and I've decided to rewrite it, because there is so much I dislike about it...and it just plain needs it. Let's be honest.  
> That being said, I have no idea when it'll start being posted again, but it definitely won't be soon... So, I guess what I'm saying is, as of now, _clarify it hurts_ is on a temporary **hiatus**. For how long? I can't say, but I wouldn't be surprised if it ends up being six months...or more. Hopefully not as much.  
>  It'll also be up on [my account](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HittingSasukeIsFun) instead, since I'll be the one writing it, and under a different name. I'll also announce it here of course.  
> Meanwhile, I _will_ be working on a few stories of my own, which will also hopefully start being posted very soon. All TH...so if you're interested, definitely look out for it on my account.  maybe I'll even do other fandoms who knows  
> I'd just like to apologize...for the past few months of inactivity and the next. It just has to be this way unfortunately. But I swear it'll come back bigger and sooo much better. :D You can bet on it. (I also have a snazzy new beta *sticks nose up*)  
> Anyway, enough of that. Here...is the last chapter. I actually kind of don't see the point in posting it other than for this AN and to try to earn your love back...with smut. That's the key to your hearts right? xD Hot, smexy, underage lemonnnn  
> Ah...I kinda want that too. T_T lol okay please enjoy even though I had a rough time finishing it and it's kind of horrible.  
> kissuuuuu
> 
> Beta'd by the awesometastic [Acornaih](acornaih.deviantart.com) even though this chapter is a complete mess and nothing could possibly have saved it :')

                                                       

 

Almost an hour later, Bill stood before a patchy white door with a plastic, clothe-filled basket balanced on his hip. The chalky paint was chipped off around the three gold-plated numbers and just as his gaze lowered to the pearly door knob it abruptly twisted.

Out hurried a busty brunette who stalked down the hallway with a trained step, despite her steep stilettos.

Bill meandered into the room, observing the under-dressed women as they pampered each other. His eyes trailed over to a fixated Natalie, a mask of concentration displaying on her features as she briskly buffed an olive-colored shadow onto a redhead's eyelids with efficient strokes.

"Um," he said, in order to make his presence known, but he went unnoticed. Frowning, he walked further into the busy room. "Nat?"

"Yeah, kid, just put it on the bed," she said without looking up, waving a hand in the bed's direction. "Do you mind folding them?"

"No," he mumbled distractedly as he scanned the room.  _These must be the prostitutes,_  he thought to himself as he plopped down onto the bed.  _They're a lot prettier than I thought_ \-- he made a face --  _and cleaner._

He plucked an article of clothing out from the basket and got down to business, studying Natalie's handiwork all the while.

"Okay, done." She grinned and patted the girl's arm, and with a quick 'thank you' and 'good bye', she left, only to be replaced by another girl, who Natalie had hastily motioned over.

Several minutes later, she set down the saturated foundation brush and reached for the rainbow-colored eyeshadow palette on the antique vanity. After hovering over the wide array of shades with a small rounded brush for a few long seconds, she scowled and clicked her tongue. Crossing her arms, she gazed pensively at the brunette and cocked her head in contemplation.

"I'm thinking blue," she murmured, tapping her foot against the matted carpet. Bill glanced up at her, then to the girl, and frowned.

"Uh," he cleared his throat, catching the attention of Natalie and the girl in her chair. "Blue? Like a cerulean or a navy?" The blonde furrowed her eyebrows in a mixture of confusion and curiosity.

"Cerulean, I guess. Why?"

"I don't know, I could be wrong," Bill started, placing a newly folded shirt to his side, "but I think cerulean is too close to her eye color; it'd kind of wash her out. Right?"

Natalie looked back at the brunette for a moment, examining her face in contemplation. "You're right," she said in a low voice, and for a second, Bill thought she was upset that he called her out, but then she smiled at him, and he smiled back. "I'm impressed. Who taught you that?"

Bill grinned cockily. "I just-

Suddenly, the door slammed open, turning the heads' of everyone in the room. In the doorway stood a tall, shaggy-haired blonde wearing all black and an impatient scowl.

"Natalie, I told you five minutes ago that I should've been out of here already! Bushido's gonna be up _both_  of our asses if I'm late again."

"Fuck!" the older woman shouted, leaning against the vanity and massaging her temples. "I'm sorry Steffani, I'll be with you in a second. God, I  _told_  him I couldn't do this alone!"

"I don't  _have_  a second! I gotta be out of here  _now_ ," the tall girl stalked further into the room, crossing her leather-clad arms. "And there's no fucking way I'm going out there barefaced."

Natalie glowered at the woman. "Listen-"

"I could do it," Bill spoke up hesitantly. "It would only take me five minutes."

Natalie glared at him. "If you fuck this up, I'll kill you."

Bill grinned widely, clapping his hands in excitement.

"I won't, I promise," he said, skipping past the two peeved girls and over to the vanity.

Everyone's gaze was on him as he dug around in the first drawer and plucked out a small brush and some eyeshadow. Steffani took a seat on the drab wooden chair and eyed him apprehensively as he approached. She eased up though when he smoothed the smoky powder ably over her bare lids, but there was still a discernible scowl between her tawny brows. Bill's lips twitched and he resisted the urge to turn around and see all of those wary faces. He'd show them, he thought complacently.

He strode back and deposited the used cosmetics in exchange for a hot pink lipstick and a tube of mascara.

While he carefully traced her delicate lips, he flippantly wondered how many dicks had been shoved between them. Probably too many to keep count. He pursed his lips, and smirked when Steffani's scowl deepened. Maybe he'd ask her, you know, as small talk. He almost snorted.

In the end he decided against it, instead complimenting the golden and silver chained choker that fit snug around her neck.

"Uh, thanks. Am I done?"

"Yup," he dragged out his confirmation just enough to add the finishing touches of mascara to her bottom lashes.

"Okay, later then." She rushed out the door and Bill sighed happily to himself.

Various degrees of surprise and amusement were painted on the women's faces and Natalie wore an impressed pout on her glossy lips.

"Well, well, well...you've been holding out on us."

Bill beamed, resuming the mundane chore of clothe-folding.

"Can you do my makeup next?" one of the prostitutes, an Asian girl with a layered fringe that covered one eye, eagerly asked, a bright smile on her face. He glanced at Natalie in question and she clicked her tongue and nodded, waving him off.

"Yeah, yeah, go ahead."

Bill skipped over to the brunette after snatching up all the different products they would be needing and immediately started on the exaggerated winged eyeliner they'd agreed on, finally feeling a little more fulfilled and a little less useless. Thank God for all of those tutorials he'd watched on Youtube.

* * *

"So, he pretty much rejects you every time?" inferred Fredie, a short-haired brunette with piercing amber eyes.

He'd gotten to know all of them by name, and most of them were actually pretty damn nice, much to his surprise.

" _Well_...no- I mean, not exactly. He always stops me but I can tell he wants it too." _  
_

"How do you know?" Heidi asked with a smirk.

"Well, he," he started hesitantly and gestured vaguely with his hands, but, peering up at everyone, he noticed all their grins and some even laughing under their breath. He huffed and gave them a bras d'honneur before crossing his arms over his chest. They burst out laughing and aw'ed and reassured him, but as they quieted, Heidi repeated,

"Really, though. Are you sure he wants it?"

" _Yes_ , already! You don't believe me?"

"I do," Echo, the Asian girl, said. "With the way he looks at you, you'd have to be blind not to see how much he cares about you...and wants to get in your pants, of course."

That was very flustering to hear...but it also felt good. It was nice to have some sort of confirmation, because  _Tom_ sure didn't show it or say it that often...or at all really. Sometimes he felt like some stupid little girl, dying for attention from the boy that sat two tables over at school who she was crushing on.

_Just tell me you love me_ _._

At times he really did want to say that... But he was so reserved with his feelings, he would never... God, was it frustrating.

"Maybe you should wear something sexy."

"Does he like dirty talk?"

" _Or_  you can tell him you have a boo-boo and you need a kiss to make it all better and when he asks where, you shove your booty all up in his face! He'll definitely eat that ass after that, trust me, _I know_."

As noted earlier, they were nice, but  _man_ were some kookoo.

Nonetheless, thanks to them he'd gotten a few promising ideas that were just begging for execution.

He just needed to get the timing down.

* * *

Shuffling feet and loud voices made Bill look up from his mostly empty bowl of stew, and a smile tugged at his lips at the sight of Tom struggling in a chokehold, laughs spilling from his rosy lips. He couldn't wait to pull him into his arms and kiss him...and maybe even hump him, who knows?

Their eyes met and Bill melted as his friend's face lit up. He shoved away from the grapple and past everyone that was in his way to ultimately grab a chair next to the brunette. "Hey," he greeted somewhat breathlessly, settling down. His eyes darted this way and that before he eventually pressed a brief kiss to the older teen's cheek.

Maybe Tom wanted to hump him tonight too.

He took a deep, hopefully calming breath, and squeaked out a 'hi' before slurping down the rest of his stew.

"Mh, I'm starving! I could eat a horse."

If he could eat a horse, he had to have room for a dick too, right?

Yeah, that breath had done nothing to hamper his perverted thoughts. Oh well.

Tom stood back up and whirled around to get his own dish from the kitchen.

"Um!"

He stopped short and stared back at Bill expectantly with one eyebrow raised.

He was so attractive. Why hadn't all this happened sooner? Goddammit, he knew he should have kissed him that one time at the playground. So much sexual tension and frustration...all for even  _more_  sexual tension and frustration! Fucking fuck. He'd get him on his knees if it was the last thing he-

Oh, was that anger he saw on his face now? Oops.

"I'm just... I'll be upstairs," he nodded and pointed backwards with his thumb, hopefully not looking too suspicious.

"Okay then," he slowly said, "I'm just gonna grab a bite."

Bill huffed as he brought his bowl back to the kitchen.

Tom had better grab a bite of something else tonight too, otherwise he would be extremely dissatisfied and disappointed in him. It's not like he was asking for much, just a little teeth action, for crying out loud!

His despondent moan echoed in the hollow staircase as he dragged himself up the seemingly never-ending steps.

Tom better hurry the fuck up too, 'cause his boner was  _not_  about to wait a half an hour untouched.

He paused in the stairwell with a pensive air.

Maybe it wouldn't go untouched.

He snickered impishly and raced up to their room.

* * *

The door creaked open and in came a sluggish Tom. He inhaled deeply as he shut the door and made his way to the bed. Man, what a day, he mused as he hauled himself onto the springy mattress and next to the taller teen.

Today's task had taken place in a tiny convenience store. Sitting behind the counter was an awfully old and frail-looking man, and his trembling hands held a newspaper up close to his bespectacled eyes. They thought he was deaf or mute -- or both -- because he had no reaction whatsoever to the shrill bell that sounded when the front door swung open, and even to Gustav's extremely sensual twerking.

They quickly finished stuffing their jackets and left, but Tom was feeling overconfident and started emptying the shelves into a paper bag he'd snatched from the counter. As he was doing so, a man had come in through the entrance, eyeing him warily. Tom, as casually as he could, stopped and walked over to the exit. He called him over but Tom didn't even turn around, opting to shove the door open and rush out. He heard the man curse and when he looked back he was regrettably right on his tail.

Ten minutes later when he finally lost him, he almost collapsed from exhaustion.

And now he felt like he could sleep for two days straight.

He looked up at Bill as he played with a dreadlock, and there was something in his eyes. Something...

Something Tom could not put his finger on, or at least couldn't be bothered to. His lids drooped drowsily and he sighed.

A gentle kiss was pressed to his cheek then, and he barely had the strength to even lean into the sweet touch -- and the several more that followed.

It felt so nice, so soothing; he loved Bill's kisses, and he already seemed to be slipping into a dream state.

"At least take your shoes off before you zone out."

Tom huffed and heaved his leaden body into a sitting position at the edge of the bed. While he untied his shoelaces, nimble fingertips skimmed up his back, and a shiver went up his spine. The soft hands landed on his shoulders, massaging his sore muscles, and he hummed at the pleasant sensation.

The blond's movements slowed and soon stopped altogether, unable to concentrate on even the simple task of taking his shoes off.

Bill gazed longingly as Tom's eyebrows drew together and his flushed lips parted, letting out labored breaths. He was really cute...and hot. He wanted him so bad, it was almost unbearable; it kept him up at night. He would do anything to get his way with him. He was the only one he wanted, and he'd wanted him for so long, and now that he was finally his, he couldn't even have him fully. It wasn't fair. He was just-

Tom yawned loudly and flopped back onto the bed with his arms over his head. "So tired," he sighed out.

The other boy glared down at him. All Tom could think about was sleeping? Didn't he have any idea how much Bill wanted to lay him down and screw his brains out? Hell, he hadn't been this horny since Tom got his lip pierced.

He was about to push him back up so he could finish taking his goddamn shoes off, but then a light bulb went off in his head.

He slipped off the bed with a sly grin and sat on his haunches at Tom's feet, undoing what knots were left. As he shimmied one of his shoes off, the blond lifted his head and blinked at him several times. "W-what-"

Bill just shushed him, removing the other shoe and placing them both neatly on the floor next to him. He slid his hands up his thighs, leaning forward between them, and Tom sat up, eyes widening. He itched to rip his pants off right then and there but that would definitely not fly, so instead he hugged his waist. Innocent, sweet, not sexual, he reminded himself; maybe this way he could trick him into thinking that's all it was...and then pounce on him when the moment was right. Oh fuck, he couldn't wait.

He kissed his stomach and let his hand stray to his hip, oh so close to the tempting bulge in his pants. He sighed and squeezed him in his arms, making sure to rub up against him as much as possible, and to that Tom stilled. Bill's body buzzed in anticipation. Was his plan working?

Tom sighed again and combed his fingers through Bill's hair. He looked up at him and kissed even lower on his abdomen, keeping eye contact all the while, and the blond seemed to tense up and stop breathing, the grip on his hair tightening.

Oh, it was definitely working.

His hand inched closer and he trailed kisses up his chest, the last one landing on his blushing cheek. He knew his front was slowly falling, but so was Tom's guard.

Though before he really did cave, he stood back up and returned to his original spot behind Tom. "There you go."

He wrapped his arms around the other teen and nuzzled his neck, then slowly trailed kisses from his shoulder to his jaw, each one less chaste than the previous. His stomach churned pleasantly as Tom turned his head slightly toward him, and it was just enough to feel each other's hot breath on their lips. He deliberately pressed a kiss to Tom's cheek, heat crawling tantalizingly up his neck, and the blond audibly swallowed. Bill's eyes traveled down Tom's chest to the obvious swell of arousal in his jeans, and his breath caught in his throat.

He bit his lip, his heart pounding frantically against his rib cage.

_Calm down, dammit. Or else he'll figure you out._

He released him and lay back down on the bed, grabbing his journal and opening it to a random page. He'd never been so reluctant to do something in his life. Instead of actually reading it though, he closed his eyes and tried his hardest not to pay attention to the uncomfortable way his dick was stuck between his stomach and the mattress and how much he just wanted to grind into it -- but that was out of the question, it would give him away instantly.

Although, much to his surprise (and delight), the bed creaked and dipped down next to him and a second later he was trapped underneath Tom's strong body.

As the younger teen kissed the back of his neck, an unbearable heat engulfed him and he started to writhe uncontrollably, forgetting how to breathe again. His hips undulated and Tom's jean-clad erection brushed against his ass...and that was the point of no return.

He wriggled around til he was able to flip over onto his back, and once he did, their eyes locked as they both breathed heavily, momentarily transfixed.

Bill broke the trance, yanking Tom down by the neck to hungrily claim his lips, and it sent a jolt of pleasure straight to his groin.

Despite his fatigue, Tom couldn't help but respond to Bill and his own body's screaming desires. His whole being felt like it was on fire and he whimpered at the groping hands that roamed over his sensitive skin. How was Bill so irresistible and sexy all the time? And seemingly without even trying. God help him.

His tongue swirled over his neck and he thought he was about to faint.

"Shit, Bill..."

All he did was moan in response and continue the sweet torture. His cock pulsed, aching for the same treatment.

Fuck, no, he could never make Bill do that, it was disgusting and horrible and  _he_  was disgusting and horrible for even thinking it.

The loud unzipping of his fly being undone brought him out of his castigating thoughts, and before he knew it his shirt was being pulled over his head and his pants tugged down his legs. Soft lips and a hot tongue were all over his bare chest, some teeth also coming out to play here and there, and he shivered.

Bill was in a frenzy. Was he finally getting what he wanted? He didn't dare think yes -- God forbid he jinx it.

His hand gripped Tom's hip, and he foggily debated taking the plunge.

Opening his eyes, he was met by a lust-clouded gaze that stared heatedly back at him.

Fuck, yes, this was it.

Slipping his hand underneath the waistband of his boxers, he hastily fisted the hard flesh.

Tom abruptly pulled back, panting, and stared at him with tortured-looking eyes and a scowl between his brows.

"What...?" Oh no, oh no, oh  _please no_.

The blond ducked his head, swallowing hard and exhaling haltingly through slightly puffy lips.

"Just trying not to come," he said breathlessly as he peeked up at him with a tiny smirk.

Thank God. For a minute there he was scared the blond was about to rip his hand off his...hard...throbbing...cock. He felt like he could almost come just from the feeling of it in his hand and the beautifully pained expression on Tom's face.

Wait.

He was...trying not to come.

It turned him on so bad to know that Tom was struggling not to come in his pants, and it was all because of him. He made him want to come. He chewed on his bottom lip, suppressing a moan.

As he began to stroke him, Tom seemed frozen, his breath escaping his parted lips in irregular intervals, and Bill was mesmerized by the hot column of flesh between his fingertips and how the foreskin slid smoothly up and down thanks to the abundant precum that leaked from the tip.

He was really letting him do this. This was real. He was giving Tom a handjob. His own dick pulsed hotly, in need of a touch of its own.

Suddenly the blond opened his eyes, fixing Bill with his intense regard, and desire throbbed inside him, a whimper sliding from his throat. Normally he would feel embarrassed, but at that moment he couldn't bring himself to care about anything but Tom and his dick and his eyes and his lips and his  _everything_.

He sped up the pace and Tom hissed and groaned, slowly sinking closer to the brunet til he leaned on his elbows and their faces were inches apart. He brushed his fingers over Bill's stomach, making him twitch and gasp, hypersensitive. His hand seemed to falter, becoming hesitant as it neared Bill's own still boxer-clad erection, and his expression turned into something tormented.

"You...you can, if you want," Bill allowed breathlessly, his voice drenched in desire.

"I don't know," Tom choked out, images of his father crashing down on him and making him feel sick.

It was Bill, dammit! It wasn't Jörg. He would never see him again; that nightmare was over and now he was with Bill, and he deserved this. He loved him and he would do anything for him. It was just a handjob, no harm done -- on the contrary.

Despite telling himself all that, his hand just wouldn't budge.

"I'm sorry..." he whispered, and a deep pang of remorse reverberated inside him.

But Bill's hand didn't slow down; if anything, it sped up.

It didn't really matter too much to Bill. He could deal with a neglected boner -- he'd already been doing that for so long, he was used to it by now. What  _did_  matter though was why Tom had acted that way. Something was definitely wrong and he would have some serious interrogating to do afterwards. But right now he wanted to make Tom come.  _H_ _ard_.

Tom continued to gaze at him with his lost, forlorn eyes, and the brunet was becoming a bit irked by it.

He kissed his lips, again and again, wanting him to forget whatever was haunting him and muttering "it's okay," and "don't worry," and even "just concentrate on this," as he started to pump his cock at a rather fast pace.

Tom sagged over him, resting his forehead on his chest and thrusting into Bill's tight fist.

"Yeah," Bill encouraged, adrenaline coursing through him when Tom groaned hotly in response.

He let go for a second to take off his shirt, not wanting to ruin it, and Tom looked up at him restlessly, to which the brunet smirked. He rubbed his palm over the dripping slit and then the rest of Tom's pulsing member, making sure to evenly coat it in the slick substance, and he resumed his steady yet quick stroking. Mere seconds later Tom's body quivered and his hips jerked spasmodically, moaning as his seed gushed onto Bill's bare stomach. The brunet wanted to moan too, just from the feeling of Tom's hot cum splattering against his skin and the incredibly sexy sounds he was making.

The younger teen panted as he looked up at him and Bill impulsively thrust his hips up, still achingly hard, and there were those pathetic eyes again. He clicked his tongue and huffed, disgruntled.

"Stop it," he covered his eyes, "it's fine."

"But...it's-"

Shushing him, he cupped his cheeks and brought their faces close.

"Don't worry," he whispered and pressed a kiss to his soft lips. "What you  _can_ do, though, is clean me up," he added, his tone upbeat.

Tom rolled his eyes and lifted himself off the other teen.

"Yes, your majesty," he quipped.

Bill snickered, watching him tuck himself back in and stand to get a towel.

He'd let it slide this time, but Tom could bet his ass he would be demanding an explanation tomorrow...and maybe a handjob or two to make it up to him.

For now though, he just wanted to get rid of the sticky, pearly mess on his chest and lay with his favorite dreadhead, falling asleep in his warm embrace til the morning separated them again.

Well, fuck. That was nothing to look forward to.

He grumbled curses under his breath and dismissed Tom's questioning looks.

He guessed he'd just have to hope he'd get that handjob, finally.

Only thing keeping him going:

Handjobs.

What a life.

Bill sighed as the other teen gently wiped him up and settled behind him when he turned over on his side, snaking an arm around his waist. He laid his hand over Tom's and quickly forgot his troubling thoughts, content to be snug in Tom's embrace...though still absently fantasizing about his potential handjob the next day.


End file.
